The 9th female country
by rosemoon1999
Summary: So, I decided to do somthing radically different: I've written myself into Hetalia MUWAHAHA! Please note, this is not reader is written in. Nein, this is ME written in, as in rosemoon1999 is now part of Hetalia. Why not reader is in Hetalia? Because I don't like writing/reading those. Soorrrryyyy :/
1. Chapter 1

THE 9TH FEMALE COUNTRY

It all started one somewhat sunny day. I was in my woods, hard at work building a teepee next to a stream that would be able to theoretically survive the winter, not knowing my life was about to dramatically change.

Who am I? My human name is Nikki. Just Nikki, my last name is irrelevant. I have mid-forearm black hair, hazel eyes, purple glasses, no braces. I'm tall for my age, standing at 5'7ish. And I am the 9th female country. I'm sure because of that you, reader dearest, must be awfully confused. Well, let me finish my story then!

I stood back, slightly frustrated. My teepee was fine, up until now. I had run out of the good branches to use, so I had resorted to using either slim or twisty-er sticks, and it was glaringly obvious. One side looked sturdy, durable, and ready for the snow. But the other side… Yikes. It looked, well, perfectly, awfully, terrible. It was leaning, full of holes, unstable, and was an eyesore. I finger-combed my hair, sighing in exasperation, but stopped. I could feel eyes on me. Slowly, like I had done the last seventy million times, I picked up a branch that was unacceptable to build with, but was perfect to crack the head of whoever was watching me. Once again, I whirled around, expecting to see nothing but air like all the other times.

How wrong was I? I'll give you 3 guesses.

Standing out in the open, not even bothering to hide was a large man with a long, ankle-sweeping tan overcoat and a whiteish scarf. I jumped back, dropping my stick. He smiled, and took a step forward.

I turned tail and ran across a fallen tree to the other side of the stream, nearly slipping and breaking my face. The man was still advancing, so I ran again, sticking to the streamside. Who was this guy? What was his problem? Was he a pedophile-kidnapper out to get me? Were my thought as I wove through the thick underbrush. I stole a glance behind me. All was clear. Thinking I was safe, I slowed, still nervous and jumpy.

"Ni hao!"

I leaped a good 2 feet in the air, heart jackhammering. In front of me was a woman (?) with a low black side-ponytail, hunter green clothing, and a backpack the color of old wood. A panda sat in the backpack, munching on something. The woman (?) smiled. Just like the guy. Who were these people? What did they want? Frightened, I turned left and ran again. Shouts followed me. I paid them no heed.

And then another one was suddenly in front of me, cutting off escape. Again. This person truly scared me. He had shoulder-length blonde hair, a slight beard, and a blue shirt. I though the first guy looked as pedophile-ish as you could get. For the third time today, I was terribly wrong. This newcomer just oozed pedo vibes. I wanted to get away from him. I had to. I HAD TO! But there was nowhere to go. Behind me, the crashing got louder as the first two closed in. Pedoguy winked at me, mockingly. They knew I was trapped. Desperate, I whipped my head left, looking for an escape route I knew was not there, and saw it.

My climbing tree. Duh! I was so stupid! Climb it, and wait for them to leave. But how? They would catch me, and then it would be game over, thanks for playing, here's your consolation prize: Death! But I couldn't just stand here and wait, No, if I had to die, I would go down kicking and a deep breath, I made the longest Leap of Faith ever: a whopping 6 feet. Pedoguy shouted something. I didn't break my focus to hear.

With the speed, strength, and dexterity only being scared poopless can bring, I climbed to a branch fork 20 feet up, somewhere nobody could get me. Not even the tall man in the overcoat.

Panting, I looked up.

And almost fell out on my tree.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED.**

If I did, England, America, and Canada would have more sceentime and would be MINE :D

Coming at me from every way were people, people, and more people! From the left, a big-chested lady with silver hair, and a brown-haired guy with a cat on his left shoulder. A boy and girl, both with short hair. She was shorter than he, with dark blonde hair and a ribbon. He had light blonde hair, and piercing green eyes. A bigger dark-skinned man with a floral shirt, another blonde man with huge, screwed up eyebrows. That was just at the front line. It was a nightmare. I could hear crashing from behind me, to the right, and in front. I did not look anywhere else. To confirm that I was surrounded, well, that would be too much to handle. I closed my eyes, gripping that tree as hard as possible. This was not happening. This was a dream, albeit a terrible one. Any second, I would wake up in my bed, most likely with a cat on my chest. I would shove him or her off, grumbling about school. Then I would eat, and then… Then… Who was I kidding? This wasn't a dream, and I knew it.

Below me, the crashing stopped. I cracked open an eye, and would have fallen, if not for my death grip. All around my tree's base they had congealed. Most were looking at me, sizing me up like a cow ready for auction. Others were nose to nose, looking ready to kill. At once, someone shoved their way to the front, and stood with hands on hips a few feet from the tree. It was a guy in a brown bomber jacket, glasses, and a tuft of sandy blonde hair sticking up from near his forehead. He threw his head back and laughed, a hearty, true "HA HA HAA~" of a laugh. He looked at me, pushing up glasses. "Hey there! I am America! What country are you?" I frowned. What country-what? Did he mean what country was I from? The one with big eyebrows turned to him. "America, much too bold. Give her time to adjust. We must have scared her awfully so for her to get up that tree like that in 7 seconds flat." He turned to me. "Please excuse America. He's always been very….. Out there. I'm England, and if there's anything I can do for you, let me know. Good day." England now? What next? Russia?

The tall man with the tan overcoat spoke up; "I'm sorry, little country. Excuse my scaring you. I'm Russia. Please do not be afraid."

Oooooofffff course. Why not? I found my voice, and before I could lose nerve I blurted out "Who are you people? What do you want?" The one they called America laughed again. "We are the countries of the world personified!" I stared. "And," he continued, oblivious to my disbelief, "We are here because it's been recently discovered that YOU are a country. So, you have to decide who you want to live with and under!"

"Tactful. Rrreeaaalll tactful." Muttered Pedoguy. He flashed me a smile. "I'm France. Bonjour!" That was it. My hands slackened, and I tumbled out of the tree, slamming roughly into branches. I braced for impact. But none came. Someone had caught me, and just in time.

Hardly believing my luck, I opened my eyes, and found myself staring into-

(A/N: Muwahahaha! I'm so mean! You guys will have to wait. Lol. Sucks to be you guys!)


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

_BBBIIIIIGGG thank-you to mybrosdrivemecrazy and MVFBattleEevee for reviewing. It's mucho appreciated :)_

Violet-blue eyes. For a millisecond, I thought America had caught me. Then, I noticed the lone curl. America had a tuft, not a curl. And he had solid blue eyes, not blue-violet. This new person's hair color was also different.

New person smiled softly. "Hello there." I blinked. "Th-Thank you, sir." He looked mildly surprised. "Oh no, please don't call me sir. That's much too formal. My name is Canada." I smiled. "Thank you, Canada." There was something about this person that made me feel safe. He helped me up, saying "Now, don't go falling down again, ok?" I smiled. "Alright."

I tensed, and slowly turned toward the other people. By now, most of them had migrated toward the front of the tree. And most were staring at me in shocked silence, mouths open. The only exceptions were Pedo-… France and England. Or was it England? I didn't know. I couldn't see his eyebrows.

One guy in a blue jumpsuit and a gravity-defying hair curl began laughing. "How did you do that?" He asked in amazement. The crowd murmured in general agreement. "Do what?" I asked cautiously. He laughed again, a pleasant sound that was hard to describe. "Ve~. Stop yourself from falling! You have to teach that to me!" I frowned, confused. "What's he talking about?" I asked Canada quietly. He answered back in the same volume, "I'm invisible to most of them. I'm not a ghost, but am not seen. The only ones who can see me are  
America and France, sometimes England." I nodded. "That's not right."

"Hey! Bacon bitch! Pay attention when my brothers talking to you!"

"Romano!"

I turned around, looking for the one who had called me a bitch. "Over here. Are you blind as well as stupid?" There! The person was another guy. (No surprise. Were they all guys?) And he looked almost an exact clone of the blue-jump suited one, except his clothes were tan and his hair darker.

"Did you call me a bitch?" I asked, voice low. I did not like being called names, especially from strangers. "No, I called you bacon bitch. Get it right." He said, crossing his arms arrogantly. "Romano!" Hissed the blue one urgently. "Stop it!"

"What's your problem?" I asked, irritated. He smirked. I hate smirks. "My problem is you. You've dragged the entire world out into the middle of nowhere, in a stupid forest, made us chase you up a tree and then when you fell like a weakling you stopped yourself. Finally, you ignored my little brother when he was talking to you, choosing instead to talk to yourself. What the hell is wrong with you?" I narrowed my eyes. "Nothing, up until all you guys chased me up a tree and you called me a bacon bitch."

"Oh, I'm sorrey! Did I hurt your widdle feewings?" he said mockingly. I clenched my fist. "Please, do us all a favor and shut up." Romano stepped forward, smirk gone.

"Who's gonna make me?"


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

Tension ran thick in the air. Romano and I stared, neither backing down. His challenge still rang in my ears, grating and taunting. In one fluid motion, I raised one hand. He tensed. Smiling in an unhinged, crazed way, I flipped him off.

That did it. With eyes ablaze, Romano yelled something in Italian (?) and launched himself into a flying tackle, bringing me to the ground. My back ground roughly into a wayward branch that must've fallen when I did. Distantly, I could hear shouts of alarm, but my focus was elsewhere. Romano's face was in mine, yelling what must be nasty obscenities in Italian (?). Something was digging savagely into my side, twisting and pinching. "That hurts, bastard!" I growled, throwing my head up, slamming his dead-on. He gasped and jerked up, and the thing in my ribs going away. He still sat on legs, however. I sat up, nearly giving myself whiplash, and swung a fist at the tan shape in front of me. There was a satisfying "OOPH!" and the weight disappeared.

I scrambled up, none too graceful. The world swam violently, and I closed my eyes. Now of all times to get vertigo! I thought, head hurting. When my eyes opened again, they saw a blur heading straight for me. I leaped backward, narrowly missing the blur that was Romano's fist. "So, you play dirty? Fine. We can do that." I hissed at him. Lasing out a foot, I proceeded to kick his ass.

My foot hit him square in the thigh, followed shortly by a fist to the shoulder. He stumbled backward a bit. I followed step-for-step. I think he realized his mistake then, for his eyes widened and he began apologizing profusely. I halted my advance just long enough to whisper, "I don't think so." And smile. Always smile.

With that, I dove into the fight with a vengeance. He didn't stand a chance. I was going to turn him into mincemeat, and he knew it. I pounded first one, then two punches straight to his gut, then again in the face when he doubled over. My foot lashed out again, slamming into his shin. Another to the arm! A pathetic swing from his side. I didn't even break rhythm to block it, just let it land somewhere on my ribcage. I felt nothing. I was invincible!

BAM. Another to the ribs. One to the head. A kick to the shin so hard I felt in. He cowered in pain, whimpering. I didn't care. He was mine, MINE! He dared call me a bitch, and would pay! I spotted an opening in his block, and plowed straight through it, shattering any scrap of safety he had. Ha! A simple block was not going to stop me! His face turned toward me. Wrong move, you just lost. Never show your face in a fight!

My fist was no longer digging into his shoulders, but was now buried in his mouth. Blood and saliva coated my hand. I could hear a shout, but was not concerned. I had him now, and was going to finish hi. Nothing would stop me!

Except the multiple pairs of hands that grasped onto my shoulders with a vice-grip, yanking me roughly. "LET ME GO!" I screamed. "LET ME GO, YOU DAMN PERVERTS! I DON'T NEED HELP! LET ME GO!"

I fought viciously, screaming the entire times. I think I even bit somebody, I'm not sure. The only thing I knew was that my blood was on fire, and every part of me ached to be freed to finish pummeling Romano. My very essence depended on it!

Until I saw Canada's face.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANTHING HETALIA-RELATED.  
**

It was filled with sadness and disappointment, the kind that freezes you on the spot with guilt. The fight instantly went out of me, leaving only a hollow shell behind. I stared at him, willing him to say something, anything. But the only thing he did was turn away. That was the worst thing he could have done, even worse than if he had yelled at me.

A low moan distracted me. Turning my head, I gasped. Lying on the ground like a sack of broken potatoes was Romano. He was in a terrible shape. Bruises already started to mottle his skin. Blood sprinkled his clothes, staining tan with red. He had a black eye and cut lips. He looked like, well, someone had kicked his ass and then ran him through a blender with some monster from a bad horror movie.

I gasped quietly. What….. What terrible thing had possessed me to do this? I had only intended to smack him around a bit, teach him not to screw with me. In my heart of hearts, I knew the answer to my question: A hatred of humans. Now, don't read that and think I'm some psycho, crazed, I-hate-society-leave-me-alone person. No, just the opposite. How should I word this…. I love being around people, but not being center of attention, I guess. Again, I must be confusing you something terrible. In all honesty, I confuse myself thinking about it. ANYWAYS, back to my story. No more distracting me!

I raised a hand to my mouth, surprised and yet not to feel tears. I felt AWFUL, just awful. What I had done was wrong. I had to right it. But how? I doubted a simple "I'm sorry." would do it.

Unconsciously, I started to take a step forward, guided by a sudden gut feeling. Suddenly, something roughly seized my wrists from behind and forced them toward my ankles. "Ahhh-ha-ha-how!" I exclaimed, body folding over backwards. "AMERICA! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU STUPID WANKER?" roared an angry voice from the left. It was the man with big eyebrows- England, I think?

Twisting my head awkwardly, I saw America holding my wrists with one hand and pointing with the other. "She was going to bear Romano more, so I stopped her." England sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, you git, she wasn't. Don't you see her tears; see the look in her eyes? She feels awful. So would I. That was quite the beating, and I'm sure it must be terrible to know that you did that. She didn't intend for it to go that far. Isn't that right?" He said looking at me. I nodded. "How… How did you know all that?" I asked, trying my very hardest not to let my voice crack. He gave me a tired smile. "Because I was once a pirate, and this is how I would always look and feel after beating an enemy like you did. Now," He said, mercifully turning his intense gaze to America, "I recommend you let our friend- er,"

"Nikki"

"Nikki go at once, and next time at least try to see everybody side of a story before jumping to conclusions and trying to play hero, alright?"

America let go, looking chastised. "Sorry." He muttered, looking away. "S'ok" I said quietly.

Standing again, I could sense all eyes on me. I hoped that a certain pair of violet-blue eyes was too. I didn't want Canada to see me as the violent, angry, spiteful person I had revealed.

Romano was still unconscious when I knelt by him. Fresh tears began to follow old tracks. He looked even worse up close. I gently traced his black eye, heart knotting in regret. What could I do to soften the hurt and pain of his injuries?

Driven by an unknown inspiration, I reached up and caught a tear as it came out. I studied it, shimmering and dome-like. For a second, I could have sworn it turned blue-green.

Guided by something cosmic, my finger lowered and tilted, spilling that tear onto Roman's face. I went back to my eyelashes, gathering more and more water until I had a puddle half the size of his cheek. "What's she doing?" murmured America. "Shut up!" came a general hiss.

Touching the very center of the puddle, I sang just one line of The Song. I don't know what Song it was, didn't know the language, and didn't know the words. But the effect on my tears was instantaneous. They lit up in brilliant colors. Red! Purple! Green! Blue! Anything in between! The swirling rainbow turned into a mist, breaking apart and racing over Romano to cover any injuries he had, big or small, by me or not. They hovered over their areas, vibrating and pulsing as if eager to do… what?

I knew what. I paused just a moment longer, and sang just a single note of Song.

With a SWOOSH! Sound, the mist simultaneously jumped forward, sinking into Romano almost joyously. There was a bright white flash and a gasp from the assembled countries as they beheld Romano.

One that was completely free of wounds.

_(A/N: aaannnndddd I did it again. Don't you love cliffhangers? I hope you guys know I do it on purpose XD. I do it especially for YOU, miss Mybrosdrivemecrazy. Anyways, please Review, and tell me what you think! Tell me if it's crap, its good, ok, et. I want to hear it!)_


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED.**

All the assembled countries gasped at once at the spectacle. The forest was deadly silent for a few seconds, but was followed by the loud CRASH! CRUNCH! Of many people fleeing through underbrush in great haste. My heart sank. They were afraid of me, the polar opposite of what I had wanted. By healing Romano, I had hoped to restore some sense of trust. But instead, I had driven them all away. I didn't know why, but I felt sad and a little lost knowing that.

I stood up, not bothering to look backward. "Where're you going?" asked a voice. I froze on the spot. But hadn't they all left? Hardly daring to hope otherwise, I turned around, feeling my face split into the most ridiculous, lunatic-like grin ever.

There were still people there! America was, England was, Russia was, the blue guy, and –ugh- so was Pedo g-…France. But most importantly, Canada was there. He smiled at me, a friendly, forgiving smile that shot lightning through me.

America began to laugh. "Hey England, looks like you got somebody to do magic with! Can she see your 'friends' too?" England frowned in a typical English way. "America you git, my magic is black magic. That was NOT black magic. And Flying Mint Bunny, the faeries, and the unicorns are real." America snorted. "Whatever dude. Tell me when you lay off the meds, ok" Russia cleared his throat. "I believe we have a more pressing matter to attend to."

He turned his head my way and smiled. "You will become one with Mother Russia, da?" America crossed his arms. "Back off, commie-bastard! She was found on American soil, so I get first dibs." He too turned to me. "So, have you decided? Do you know whose new colony you want to be? I think you should be mine, since you're American and all."

I held up a hand. "Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait. I'm still stuck on the whole you're-a-country bit. What do you mean?"

America sighed. "We are the nations of the world pers-"I held up a hand, cutting him off. "I know all that, you already said. But then shouldn't you guys be, like, a million years old? And if I AM a country, which I doubt, who am I and how did you know that I am one?"

America threw a hand in the air. "I have no idea how to answer your first question because none of us really know how that works. I also have no idea which country you are, that's something you figure out yourself. And for your last question, it's glaringly obvious to us older folks. You just ooze one-of-usness."

I nodded slowly, acting like I knew what he meant. The sad part was, however, the last thing he said made sense. I could feel these people were different. And I could feel I was also different, just like them. That was part of the reason I hadn't run when I had a chance, because I knew they meant no harm.

"So," said America, cracking his knuckles, "Any more questions, or shall we get down to it?" I nodded. "One more: What about my family and friends?"

The entire forest went silent. The air became uneasy, and the adults were casting each other worried glances. I stepped forward. "What about my family?" I asked a little louder. England sighed. "Who's going to tell?" He asked, like I wasn't even there. All the countries looked the other way, fidgeting. Sighing, England looked me in the eye.

"Nikki, this is a strange way to find a country" He began in a soothing, calm voice. "Normally, we find them roaming around when they are still little and have no family or friends. You are the first we've found that isn't a baby. How old are you?" I stared, wary. "Thirteen" I answered slowly. He muttered to himself, and then looked back at me. "That's your body's age. That means, you are actually…." He did some calculations. "52 in country years, give or take. A little older than Sealand." I laughed at him. "Ok, its official: You're wacko. A Nut job. Crazy, messed up, whatever. Is this a prank show? Where are the cameras?" I asked, halfheartedly looking around.

England sighed again. "This is no joke. I swear. I am telling the absolute truth." I stared, feeling sick. You see, I knew that. Everything he had said, even the age part, made sense. I don't know how. "You aren't lying." I whispered. He shrugged. I sat down quite suddenly. "So, my family?" I said, barley heard. I already knew the answer. Even so, the answer still hit me hard. "Neither your family nor your friends will remember you. Anything they have that would remind them of you will be gone."

I felt hot tears welling up. "Do I really have a choice, other than yes?" More awkward glances, more silence. "No." said Russia bluntly. I looked down, fighting the stinging eye pain.

America threw his arms out dramatically, proclaiming "Alright! Not that that's out of the way, choose! All of us stayed despite that freaky thing you did, so we are the ones who will be best suited toward you. Who's it gonna be?" Canada spoke up, voice almost as quiet as a leaf landing. "America, you really must learn to read the atmosphere. That was NOT the time to ask." America rolled his oceanic eyes. "Whatever, dude. But," he said, turning toward me. The others weren't far behind. "Because I've broken the sad moment, now is the time." Everybody stared at me.

"Who's it going to be?"


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

I looked at each of them in turn. America, staring at me intensely. England, arms crossed with an unreadable expression. I skipped over France, not even willing to look at him. The blue guy was obviously edgy, his curl waving around in the nonexistent breeze. Russia had a smile plastered on his huge face, but it was obviously fake.

And there was Canada. I glanced his way, still unsure of his feelings. He stared back passively, a small smile creeping across his lips. I smiled back. I didn't know why, but Canada made me feel safe and happy.

I looked back at the assembled nations once again. How could I just decide on the spot? Before anything could be said, Russia spoke up. "You do not seem like the right country to become one with. Goodbye." And left.

Well.

The blue person also spoke up "Ve~ I'm just waiting for Romano to wake up, and then I'm leaving. You scare me!" he started, voice normal but climbing until it was a wail.

Well!

America rolled his eyes. England spoke up, "Italy, he most likely won't wake up for a day or two. You might as well just carry him." Italy's eyes widened. "He's too heavy! How?" England sighed, closing his eyes. His mouth moved, but the words he uttered were inaudible. I got goosebumps, and a creepy crawly sensation ran up my spine. I shuddered. Even the air didn't seem right for a moment.

England opened his eyes, looking weary. "He's back home. You can leave now." Italy nodded vigorously. "Ok. Ciao!" he said, flashing a three-fingered peace sign. Then he was gone, a white square of fabric where he had been. I was glad. Now there were only America, England, Ped-….France, and Canada.

America frowned. "FRANCE!" he bellowed. I twisted around in surprise, painfully cracking my spine. Standing caught in a sapling thicket was France, with a terrifying expression on his face. I had heard of something called a 'rape face', but had never seen one. But if I had to guess, this is what it would look like. I backpedaled, creeped out. "Go! Away!" I yelled, stopping behind America and England. They crossed their arms protectively, staring down France. A hand landed on my shoulder. I turned my head, and saw Canada. His beautiful violet eyes glimmered, obviously amused. 'It's alright, France is harmless." "Mph" I said, and turned toward the person in question.

"Please! Become my colony." He said, expression now mixed with something deep, dark, and slightly cruel. "NO! NEVER!" I shouted, shivers running rampant.

"France, just give it up and go home!" sighed England, obviously impatient. "Non non non! I've gotta have another colony! I've gotta! He begged, eyes gleaming in an alarming way. America grinned suddenly. "Hey France! Your hair is totally messed up, dude. I think you better go home and fix it, before anybody except us sees it."

France gasped. "Oh no!" He turned, fighting the branches frantically. "I've got to go! Nobody can see me as less than perfect!" England glanced at America. "Nice." He muttered out of the side of his mouth, trying not to smile. "Rrrrrreal nice."

With a final "Au revoir!" France was gone, away in a cloud of strange perfumes. I sighed, relived. Now there were only three to choose from. But HOW?! I really, really liked Canada. Life with America could be… Interesting. England reminded me of my mother. I felt a pang of sadness, but pushed it away. Now was absolutely not the time!

"Is there any way I can live with all three of you?"


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

Canada grinned.

America cocked his head.

England frowned.

I smiled innocently.

"Uhm…. I… don't really know." Said England, glancing at the other two uneasily. "Why do you ask?" America asked, confused. I took a deep breath.

"Well, I can't choose. I want to live with all three of you. I mean, life with you, America, could be very exciting and fun. Life with you, England, could open up many new possibilities, and I could learn what that Song thing is and how to control it. And you, Canada, well, you remind me so much of people in my old life, and it seems like we could be friends. I just can't rule any of you guys out!" I finished, slightly flustered. The three people looked everywhere except at each other and me.

After what seemed like an eternity, Canada finally stepped forward. "You know," He began quietly, "I've been thinking for awhile, and I believe it would be beneficial for us three to make an alliance." He looked at America and England. "And this new country, the one who doesn't want to choose between us, can symbolize the treaty. If we all can have a hand in raising her well, that just proves that we CAN work together in harmony and peace. Maybe, the rest of the world will then follow our example. So, I propose this: That England, America, and I form a team, an unnamed team. In this team, nobody is the leader. Nobody is superior. Neither one of us is 'better'. We are equal, and this new country shall symbolize our unity."

Nobody dared to speak. Minutes ticked by, each longer than a century. Finally, finally America said something. "That's quiet the speech, little bro. But I agree with you." His face was deadly serious, voice filled with something undeterminable- Pride? Hope? I didn't know. England bit his cheek. "I don't know….."

Canada took one of his hands. "What's plaguing you?" he asked sincerely. England met his stare. "I haven't raised a colony in centuries, not since America" –his voice hitched, ever so slightly- "declared independence. What if I'm horrid at it?"

America burst out laughing. "Dude! This is like something out of a bad soap opera! Lighten up!" I cracked a smile, chuckling. "You really do have a terrible sense of timing, you know that right?" England sighed. "You stupid git. Fine, I'm in." was all he said. I threw my arms open dramatically, proclaiming "Halleluiah, it's a miracle!"

"What is?" Came three voices. I laughed. "I have no clue." I twirled around, feeling like a 9-year-old. What was going to happen to me? What was this mysterious Song thing? Would I ever see my family and friends again?

One thing was for sure: Those questions are for another day. Or a sub-arc to this story,

Whichever comes first.


	9. UPDATE: 12-11-12

UPDATTTTTEEEEEEE

Hello! I'm not dead, I swear! Long story short, I've had the flu and it kicked me to China's house and back. But I'm better! HOWEVER, I'm going to Florida (Tee Hee. America's vital region lol.) for Christmas, 'cuz my grandparents live there. We are leaving innnnnnnnn….. A week! Holy Crapith!

My mom and I still have to pack, finish shopping, (This is going to be a huge thing. There's going to be at least 15 people in one house, living there for 2 weeks and four days) find someone to take our cats, and I've got to get my homework that I'm gonna miss AND memorize the rest of my choir songs. Needless to say, it's going to be VERY hectic. I don't know if I'll be able to write. I'll try, but I'm not promising to anything.

So, please don't send Belarus or Russia or Sweden, Denmark, or ANYBODY (Especially any Nordic) after me. Thank you! Maihai~


	10. Sub arc 1, prt 1

(A/N: Hello all! Welcome back! So, what I've decided to do is start a new series, but based off the main story! Make sense? Yes, no? You'll see. Anyaways, I'll shut my trap and let you read :)..)

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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED.**

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Why hello again! My name is Nikki. But not just Nikki, my full name is now Nikki Jones Williams-Kirkland. Cool, huh? Last time you heard from me, it was decided that I represent an alliance between America, England, and Canada. Well, it's official now. The adoption papers have gone through, and an alliance had been agreed to by everybody. I live in three different homes, and attend a school called New Heights. This is, however, no normal school. It's where the sons and daughters of certain politicians go.

And, where countries teach. I kid you not. For instance, Austria (Whom we must call Mr. Edelstein) is our choir/music teacher. Hungary (Who we must call Miss Héderváry) is our reading teacher. Sweden (Mr. Oxenstierna) is the gym teacher. Prussia (Who insists we call him either 'Sir Awesome' or just Prussia) is the social studies teacher. Get the picture? Anyway, lets begin this story...

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It was a snowy Monday, near Christmas time that the latest installment of my story begins.

At 5:00 on the dot, my lime-green alarm clock began blaring its daily rendition of the song that's oh-so-popular as an alarm: "BlEEp BlEEp BleeP Beep  
beep BEEEEP BleePPPPPPP!"

How I hate that song.

On cue, America burst into the room and snapped on the lights, singing almost mockingly in time with the alarm; "It's time to get uupppp, its time to  
get uuupppp, wake up, wwaakkkeee uuuppp!" I groaned. This was the almost ritual-esq occurrence on mornings spent at his house. My hand snaked out from the covers, searching for the random projectile that was always there to ward off annoying pest such a such as a certain American waltzing in at 5 am as if he owned the place. Which, ironically, he did.

"Go away!" I said sleepily, half-heartedly throwing a pen. He laughed and dodged it with ease. "Come on, it's snowing out!" He called, ripping off the  
red, white, and blue covers. The blanket was not meant to have the exact same colors as an American flag, but because England, Canada, and America all share those colors on their flags, that was how it came out.

"And that's encouraging how?" I snapped, sitting up. He shrugged and threw the blanket. "It's not suppose to! Be downstairs in 5 minutes." With that, he danced out, humming to some bouncy, upbeat-sounding song.

I blew a sigh out of my nose, irritated. This is one of the few reasons I hate living with America. He's the only one whom will wake me up in such a rude manner, particularly today. How I wish England wasn't sick! Usually, I spent the weekends with him, Monday/Tuesday with America, Wednesday/Thursday with Canada, and on Friday all four of us would go do something, like roller-skating or a movie.

I got up, stretching. My room was quite large, and (here, at least) messy. America doesn't care about how clean it is. Canada sort of does, and England is a stickler for cleanliness. If you left even one thing not picked up... Watch out! I learned that pretty fast. The first time I forgot to put my book back on its shelf, he lectured me on it for at LEAST 10 minutes. Same with grades. I don't have to be a straight-A student, but anything less than a B- will send him into such a mood that he will disappear for hours on end. It's not all that hard to keep them up, except in math. So I'm pretty lucky the days we get math homework I go to Canada's. He's very good at math, and SO patient with me it's crazy.

Downstairs, I heard America yell "THREEEE MMIINNUUTTTEEEESSSS!", Which meant I had to get my lazy butt moving. I stuck out my tounge at him, then went to my closet. I had lots of clothes at each place, again thanks to England. To quote him, "No daughter of mine, adopted or not, is going to walk around wearing the same clothes every day!"

I chose a white long-sleeved t-shirt, putting on a snug red shirt on over it. Now, don't you DARE think that I'm a slut or something for wearing a snug shirt. One, it's not uber tight. Two, I don't like baggy clothes. It makes me feel as if I'm drowning/depressed.

I picked up my faded blue jeans, pausing for a second. My dark blue pair would be more comfortable, but those would clash with white shoes. It's not that I care about fashion, but I wanted to look nice, ya know? I stood for a bit, deliberating. Another call sounded, this one informing me that I had one minute left. "Screw it. I'll wear my black boots, they match. Besides, its snowing. I'll need them." I muttered, throwing on my dark pair. Swiftly, I threaded on a belt with black-and-white studs. In fact, I missed a loop, but I'd fix that later.

I flew out of my room, almost running straight through the door in my haste. "Damn you America." I muttered, running to the stairs. Not even pausing, I did something that was strictly forbidden, even here: I slid down on the banister.

"Uph." I grunted slightly, stumbling right into the wall. I had jumped off too fast, and slid on the foyer rug. Whirling right around, I dashed to the kitchen, slamming a hand on the table with 10 seconds to spare.

I looked right at America. "I hate you." I said grumpily. He simply laughed. "Good morning to you too. Go brush your hair, it looks like someone decided to run a rake through it. Breakfast will be done in a few."

"Whatever." I said, walking to the downstairs bathroom. America just laughed again. He knew to expect this sort of thing from me in the morning. In reality, I'm actually not a grumpy bitch, and I am actually a morning person. Just not when awakened like he did.

I closed the bathroom door, mentally flipping him off. I turned to the sea-green vanity, sighing when I saw America was right. I picked up my brush and went to work, grunting a bit. It HURT to brush my thick, midnight-black hair when it was as snarled as it was. And there was this stupid small chunk of hair that would NOT go right. Ever. That in particular was uncomfortable, almost painful, to comb. I don't know what its deal was. About a week after living with them, America had pointed it out. It was a Friday, so we were all out and about. Accompanying us to wherever we were going (I have forgotten) was Spain, Prussia, and France.

_ "Nikki, guess what?" Said America, face lighting up slightly. I looked at him, thinking. "Aliens have landed, and they gave you the ability to fly. But you took advantage if it," I said, getting into the story, "By spying on Russia, for no good reason. So they landed and took back the power and also a chunk of your brain. So-" He cut me off, laughing. "No! Nothing like that." I looked at him again. "So, what is it then?" He pointed to my head. "You're growing a curl!" _

_France, Prussia, and Spain's' faces broke into grins. Creepy grins. Not liking them, I stepped closer to Canada. "A what?" I asked warily, eyeing the three smiling guys. "A curl, mademoiselle." Said France, hand twitching. Prussia tapped a toe, as if impatient. Spain grinned even wider. "So?" I stated slowly. The three men shared a glance. "Sorry about this." Said Spain sincerely. "For wha-" England broke off, eyes widening as if with terrible realization. "AMERICA! YOU! DUMB! GIT!" He bellowed, launching himself into a flying tackle. "Umph" Grunted America, slamming into the ground. Before I could react, Canada spun me around behind him, and just in time. France, Prussia, and Spain fell on him, grabbing for his own curl of wildly kinked hair. Spain and France pinned him, while Prussia scrambled up. "S-Sorry Canada." He said, apparently realizing a mistake._

_ The other two paid him no heed, too caught up in the task at hand to notice exactly WHO their prey was. "I got it!" Yelled France, triumphantly, dramatically yanking on the hair._

_ Canada's back arched as he screamed. In reality, the sound was barely above a whisper. He squirmed, face starting to flush. "H-H-HElP!" He managed to squeak out. He whimpered slightly, face and ears darkening. Prussia snapped into action, jumping onto France's back. "WRONG CURL, YOU-" He began to swear in German, wrestling to get France off the poor nation, who was starting to gasp. England and America, too, stopped fighting long enough to pounce on Spain. I watched, dumbfounded. What on earth was going on? All they had done was pull a piece of hair. _  
_ When the France and Spain were pulled off of Canada, he scrambled up, muttering about a bathroom and dashing away. Prussia glared at the offenders one last time and took off after Canada, calling "Birdie, come back!"_

_ I shook my head, confused. "What was that about?" I asked. France sighed. "Well, you see, when someone pulls-" He was cut off as America slapped him. Both he and England looked shocked. "Don't. You've done enough damage today." Snapped America. He took my wrist. "We're leaving. Have fun trying to find a ride. " He snarled, walking away. England followed, slightly behind as if keeping watch. I winced. America had an iron grip on my wrist, hard enough to surely leave a mark. But I daren't say anything, not after glimpsing his face._

A knock at the door startled me out of my reprieve. "Yo, Nikki! Are you dead?" Called my caretaker for the day. I opened the door, thankful that I had finished. "Yea. Just thinking." He gave me a strange look, shaking his head. "Odd place. Come on, I totally made breakfast!" He sprinted away, calling for me to hurry up. I rolled my eyes and ran after him. Knowing his appetite, all the food would be gone if I walked.

Not surprisingly, breakfast was hamburgers and ice cream. America was already there, wolfing down the food as if he hadn't eaten in years. I smiled. "Slow down! You're going to get sick." He rolled his cerulean eyes, talking through a mouthful "I'm a nation, and also the HERO! I don't get sick, England." He said the last part teasingly. "Maybe I need to England you." I said, teasing right back. He glanced at the wall clock shaped like a burger with bacon, cheese, lettuce, and a drip of grease the color of sand imbued with mud. The time was 5:28. He swallowed noisily. "We better hurry. Wrap your food, you can eat in the car."

I did some mental math. We had to be at New Heights by 7:30. I have no idea why, as class starts at 8. It took about an hour and a half to drive going the speed limit, but America usually kept a steady pace of 85 miles per hour. But my friends, Sealand, Latvia, and Lichtenstein usually got there at 7:15ish. So if we left right now, we would get there...

Aw, screw it.

"Lets roll." I said, grabbing a few plastic sandwich bags, my boots, backpack, and a gray scarf. I followed America out to his bright red convertible. Luckily, he had put the top up. Even he wasn't crazy enough to drive topless in mid-winter. He bounced into the driver's seat, enthusiastically beckoning to me to HURRY!

"It won't hurt you to slow down every once in awhile." I said, sliding none-to-gracefully into the passengers' seat, nearly falling out as the car lurched backwards in its haste to leave the dim confines of the garage.

America said nothing, just grinned gleefully as the car raced down the driveway. Stealthily, I gripped the seat, hoping against hope he wouldn't tip us. With a final cough, then a roar, he doughnutted out of the driveway and toward the highway. I relaxed slightly. "You really need to chill while driving." I said, forcing my hands to release and my jaw to work. He simply laughed and stepped a bit more on the gas.

"I swear, if you tip us I will skin you." I muttered, knowing that my empty threat would go unheeded. As if to prove it, the car lunged forward alarmingly as America floored it.

An hour and a half later, we pulled up to New Heights, miraculously still alive. New Heights was an old building made of gray stone, complete with creeping ivy. As the name suggested, the school was built on top of a hill, surrounded on all sides by trees of almost every kind. Pines, oak, maple, rowan, you name it, it's there. I have no idea how, but whatever.

I jumped out, eager to get to the willow tree that Sealand, Latvia, Lichtenstein and I always met by. Usually I was the last one there, but today I would be first! "Hey! Don't forget your backpack!" Called America, throwing it to me. I leaped aside, knowing from experience it was better to let anything he threw crash-land than attempt to catch the item. The backpack soared 50 feet before landing in a newly-formed snow bank. I rolled my eyes. "Thanks. See ya after school!" I called, dashing off to retrieve my backpack, which I hope hadn't split open.

It hadn't, luckily.

I gathered my 'pack and raced for the willow, determined to beat them. Despite America's reckless driving, somehow I always managed to arrive just after my friends. Perhaps today would be different?

I skidded to a halt, panting. Apparently, today was my lucky day! None of them were here today! I grinned. Over the past month, it had become somewhat of a game to try beating the rest here.

I dug my book out, and sat down on my pack to wait. I was grateful for the cover from wind, snow, and rain provided by the willow, else I'd be frozen into a Nikki-sicle.

Two and a half pages later, I heard some familiar voices. Three, to be exact. My face split into the stupidest grin ever, forgetting that they wouldn't be able to see me. I jumped up, tossing my book. "No way! Who's at our tree?" I heard Sealand mutter. "I don't know." Said Latvia uneasily. Lichtenstein sighed. "Excuse me," she said, stepping around to my side of the tree, "But could-"she broke off, staring at me as if I had grown another eye or something equally strange. Sealand and Latvia too stepped around, starting to say something. Humorously, they stopped at the exact same time. "What?" I asked, feigning innocence. "You're... You're early!" Stammered Latvia.

I nodded. "I know! I beat you ALL!" Sealand shook his head. "The world's going to end, I swear it." I laughed. "Funny. So, what do you all do while waiting?" All three shrugged. "Talk about normal things, nothing important." Said Lichtenstein. Latvia suddenly began shaking his head, widening his eyes. We all fell silent. Whenever somebody did that, it meant SHE was there. "Heeyy!" called a voice behind us. I screwed up my face. I HATE her. She's so mean. Arrogant. Snobby. A bully. Rude. Inconsiderate. Manipulative. Vicious. Fake.

In other words, she was Annabell Ruuscas.

I turned around, forcing my face back into a somewhat neutral pose. "Hi." Sealand said, voice carrying a hint of hostility. Annabell flashed her perfectly straight pearly whites. "Hey, Latviaaaaaaaa." She purred, flipping her perfectly straight honey blonde hair over her shoulder. Latvia glanced to the side. "Hi." He said, obviously uncomfortable. She grinned, blue eyes flashing. Her boots, worn only after I had worn mine, crunched in the accumulating snow. Annabell reached out one dainty hand, complete with baby pink nails. "Would you like to take a walk with me before school starts?" She asked, mascaraed eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously. Latvia turned red, speechless. She moved, as if to take his hand. "Come on, it'll be ffuuunnnnnnnn." She whispered, winking.  
Puh-lease!

"Alright, you've had your fun. Now go away." I said, irritated. I hate her. I don't have a crush on Latvia or anything, but come on! I wasn't just going to watch this terrible excuse of a human flirt with one of my best friends! I don't know whether she truly liked Latvia or was just messing with his head. Either way, it was NOT ok.

Annabell turned her icy gaze on me. "Was I talking to you? No. So shut up and don't talk to me." she snapped. I smiled. "Annabell," I said, taking on the voice of a parent, "You are not going to win over Latvia by being rude to his friends." She snorted, pert nose turning slightly upwards. "Friends? With fake trash like you? Please honey-pie, don't kid yourself. Latviaaaaaaaa would NEVER. You don't even know what country you are! In fact, I bet you're lying through those ugly teeth of yours!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Take that back, you-" I cut myself off, remembering something Canada had told me: When somebody insults you, NEVER sink down to their level. It will only reflect poorly on you.

Latvia stepped forward. "I'll walk with you. Let's go." He grabbed her wrist and ran, leaving a laughing Sealand and a gaping Lichtenstein and a shell-shocked me. I turned to Sealand. "Wha-?" I asked, not even able to complete a single word. Between gasps, he explained. " Latvia hates fighting, and didn't want the rest of us to suffer Annabell's rotten presence. So he sacrificed himself, and went with her."  
I blinked rapidly. "Brave, braaaavee boy." I murmured, new respect for the Baltic rising. Lichtenstein nodded. "Let's get going, it's 7:23. Don't want to be late." I nodded. "Let's head out."

With that, the three of us trudged toward the school, still talking about Latvia and Annabell.  
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AAAAAAHHHHH! SUPER LONG CHAPTERRRRRR! Alright, alright. Couple things. 1.) I swear, there is going to be something that happens which will start another adventure. What, you ask! None of your business, yet ;)

2.) I got some questions in a PM that I will answer here.

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_Q: Is Nikki your real name?_

_A: Nope, I just really like that name.  
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_Q: Do you really look like you've described?_

_A: No, I just like that look.  
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_Q: Where do you live?_

_A: Not telling, that would be stupid.  
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_Q: Are Iggy, Canada, and America your fav charecters?_

_A" Yup =)_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_If you have a Q, PM it to me or ask in a review. Anyways, I love you all. Maihai~_


	11. Sub-arc 1, part 2

"Annabell Ruuscas," I grumbled as we trudged toward school; "Even her name speaks of snobbishness and holier-than-thou feelings. I hope Latvia'll ok with her." Lichtenstein nodded. "He's smart. Latvia will be fine, I'm sure of it." I kicked one of those random hunks of compacted snow that show up in the strangest places, watching it skitter across the grounds. "That's awesome, what he did. I know I wouldn't be able to. Then again, Latvia is-" "Stoooopppppp!" Yelled Sealand, clamping hands over his ears. "Can't you see that she's going to use this as an excuse to ask him out? I don't want to see that happen to him! Lat's the closest thing to a brother I have! If anything ha-"

SLAP!

I stopped and stared, gaping. Lichtenstein had slapped Sealand! She had just pimp-slapped him, right across the face! Lichtenstein! "Peter Kirkland!" She said, glaring deep into his eyes. He hurriedly straightened up, surprise writing itself over his face like I'm sure it was with mine. First of all, Lich can hardly kill a mosquito with Yellow Fever. Second, she had used his Human Name. If somebody ever uses your Human Name, you'd better drop whatever you're doing and listen up! Third, LICH HAD SLAPPED SOMEBODY! HOLY CRAP! "Latvia will be fine! Quit scaring yourself so much!" she snapped, eyes slightly ablaze. Sealand flinched back slightly. "But-" She cut him off. "But nothing. Lat will be FINE." Sealand hung his head, sighing slightly. "Yes Lichtenstein." He murmured.

"Where did you learn that?" I asked Lich. She smiled slightly, her normal quiet self returning. "Big brother taught it to me." I started walking again, glancing at my watch. "Hey guys, we gotta run. It's '25." Lich nodded. Sealand shook his head. "I'll wait for Latvia." "Y'u w'll n't. Y'y w'll m'rch d'wn t' h'mr'm r'ght n'w, y'ng m'n!" Sealand's eye bugged out momentarily, flashing panic-idly before he whirled around like a cat. "D-dad!" Behind the three of us stood 5. Not just any 5, theeee 5. As in, the Nordic 5.

Sweden, arms crossed and blue eyes stern.  
Finland, mirroring Sweden to a lesser degree.  
Denmark, a satisfied smirk wide on his lips.  
Norway, who stood slightly slouched, expression nonexistent.  
And Iceland.  
Iceland.  
As in, my crush Iceland.  
He looked perfect, per usual. His platinum blonde hair shimmered, somewhat tousled by the breeze. Those violet eyes gleamed, alert and thankfully not trained on me but on a slightly shaking Sealand.

"But-" "N' b'ts! T' h'mr'm r'ght n'w!" Sweden swept the kicking Sealander off his feet and ran for the building, along with a slightly flustered Finnish man. Denmark laughed like a little kid at a fair. "Well, that was amusing. Come on Nor, we gotta go. Have a nice day at schooooooool, Icey!" With a beer-scented belch, he was gone, sprinting for his car. Norway followed at a more leisurely pace, only leaving after none-to-secretly elbowing Iceland, much to the others apparent embarrassment and annoyance. I watched, trying not to look like I was, lest he think that was strange.

Lich glanced at me, a small and knowing smile creeping across her face. She knew about my crush, and would constantly tease me about it. I just hoped to God she would keep her mouth shut. Iceland let out a long sigh. "Shall we dash?" he asked, voice carrying a hint of... What? I could not tell. I nodded, not knowing what to do. Keep silent would be the best bet, but I did NOT want to appear to be emotionless, like Norway. But if I said something, it would most likely sound stupid. The three of us took off in silence, each apparently not knowing what to say. My mind spun with anxieties. What to do, what to say? God, I hate boys. They turn me into a mixture of mute, stupid, and mush. But only ones that have platinum hair and violet eyes.

We reached the main door, slowing to a walk. There was time, so why bother running? Someone caught my eye: the substitute teacher we've had for the past week. I sighed a bit, grimacing. I reaaaaaalllllyyyyyy did not like the teacher. His name was Mr. Bonnefoy, aka France. He was subb'ing for Hungary. I did NOT like him for one reason: He scared me. He is such a pervert, it's terrifying. But the worst part is he won't give up on trying to make me his colony. It got to the point where England, America, and Canada had to go have a little 'talk' with him about his behavior toward me. But even so, he still is bad. Not AS, but still pretty unappealing.

Iceland noticed my slight grimace. "Whats wrong?" He asked, his intense violet eyes boring into me, cool and even. "Nothing. I was just hoping Hungary was back." I replied, trying not to flinch. Good job, brain! That didn't sound idiotic! He smiled slightly. "Same. I hope Austria's back, too." I nodded. "Yea. No offense to him, but Finland can't really teach."

Too late, I remembered that Finland was a Nordic, like Iceland. It's a well-know fact that those 5 are like brothers, they're so close. Craaaaaaaaaaaaap. Iceland laughed, a pleasant sound. "He can't sing, either. Why they have him filling in for a choir teacher is beyond me." Lichtenstein smiled. "True. Oh, and Big Brother is going to be here today. He got a call asking him to sub for Spain."

Spain is our math teacher.

"Didn't you come here with him?" I asked. She nodded. "Yes. He just went to the classroom to set up." I frowned. "Isn't it weird that people are just randomly disappearing? And in pairs, too. When did Austria and Hungary go?"

"Thursday." Said Ice. Why he was still here, I had no idea. I nodded thanks. "Did anyone disappear on Friday?" Lich thought for a second. "Come to think of it, I haven't heard from Greece or Japan since at least then." I frowned again. "This is so weird. Usually, Italy and Germany come over on Saturday to visit me and England. But they didn't show up. But they even called the previous night to ask what to bring for supper." Iceland frowned. "Strange." He paused for a second, then asked "Were Austria and Hungary ever married or dating?" I nodded. I must look like a bobble head, I thought privately. "A long time ago, they were married. Nowadays, they are just really, REALLY close. Do you know if Greece or Japan ever went out?"

He thought for a second. "I... Don't know. I know they are best friends, but anything after that is beyond me." He answered slowly, thoughtfully. Lich spoke up. "They did go out at least twice. Why?" I shook my head. "I'm seeing a connection here. Pairs are disappearing. We all know Germany and Italy are dating. Austria and Hungary might be. Greece and Japan did, and maybe still do. Has anybody heard from Romano today?" Both shook their heads. I dug out my phone, intending to call him. Lich stopped me. "Don't. It'll just get taken away." she warned. I sighed, putting it slowly back into my pocket. "I don't get it. Where are they going?" I asked, expecting no answer and getting none.

BBBRRRRIIIINNNNGGGGGGG! Sang out the bell. "Perfect timing." I grumbled, hitching my backpack further up on my shoulder. "See ya, Ice." He nodded. "See ya." He took off, sprinting for his homeroom. Lich and I followed suit. "I wonder how Latvia is." I panted out as we ran, footsteps echoing painfully loud. "He's fine. I'm more worried about the missing." Lichtenstein answered back. Unlike me, she was used to running due to Switzerland putting her through intense training, "just in case."

"Can't you use that Song thing to tell where they are?" She continued, taking my backpack. I nodded gratefully to her before replying. "No. I don't know how I would, and even if I did England has banned me from trying anything." She nodded. "Of course he has. He's worse than Big Brother on that." I raised an eyebrow. "Did you just say something bad about Switzerland?" She slowed slightly. "I guess I did." I cracked a grin. "Anyways, where do you think they are?" "I have no idea."

We arrived at the door, still chatting when BAM! It flew open to reveal a VERY angry Russia. His face was stormy, and the room behind him was overshadowed with a purple aura. "Get inside, and QUIT TALKING ABOUT THOSE MISSING!" He thundered. I jumped slightly. I wasn't afraid of normal Russia, but a ticked-off Russia was downright scary. We scurried past him, heads down and heading for our seats as fast as possible under Russia's terrifying gaze.

In the back, much to my surprise and dismay, were Latvia and Annabell.  
Holding hands.  
Beside them was an extremely unhappy-looking Sealand, slouched low in his seat and an expression dark enough to mach our homeroom teachers. I looked back to Latvia, heart breaking. His face was just so... so... Defeated. His usually bright aqua eyes, normally darting around nervously due to being in Russia's presence, were staring straight ahead, dull and lackluster. His mouth was set in a slight frown, lips pulled in. Even his hair wasn't as fluffed-up as it was prior to his Annabell meeting. I poked Lich discreetly in the side with a pencil, sliding my eyes toward Latvia and his tormenter. She followed my gaze, eyes widening in horror at Latvia's melancholic expression.

She turned back to me, mouthing _What happened? _ I shrugged. _Annabell._ I mouthed right back, unaware of the twin sky-blue eyes boring holes into the sides of my face. Lich grimaced. _Poor boy. Annabell must have-_

"Mr. Braginski, Nikki and Lichtenstein are talking about me!"

Dear God, kill me now.

Russ-... Mr. Braginski's face grew angrier than it already was. "Talking? Again?" He asked, eyes narrowing dangerously. I kept silent, as did Lich. Some days that trick worked. Others... Not so much. I'll give you 2 guesses if it worked today. Rus- Mr. Braginski stood up straight, revealing his full height. Some of the students, Latvia included, cowered in fear. Lichtenstein and I did not have that luxury. "Good luck. Here's to hope." I muttered out of the side of my mouth to Lich, never looking away from our teacher. A slight nod was all I got, conformation-wise. "ANSWER ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!" Roared the enraged Russian, waving an empty vodka flask.

He's drunk, I realized. Great, that's all we needed. He got abusive when drunk. Idly, I wondered if we should make a run for it. "Yes sir." Answered Lichtenstein in a small voice, apparently wondering the same things as me. Mr. Braginski seemed to blow up slightly. "Yes? Yes what?" He asked, voice lowering dangerously. "We were talking." I replied, careful to keep my own voice emotionless. He grinned wickedly. "Why. Would you. Have the audacity. To talk. IN. MY! CLASSROOM?" He bellowed, eyes on purple fire. By now, the entire class was hunkered down.

Russia didn't give us a chance to speak before continuing. "WHY, I OUGHT TO TEACH YOU TWO A LESSON!" He roared, taking a few tottering steps forward. "I wouldn't do that, sir. If you do, Nikki has England, America, Canada, and I'm sure Lichtenstein, Prussia, Latvia, and Sealand will protect her. If you mess with Lili, you will have Switzerland, who has the strongest military, to contend with, and because Nikki is her friend, England, America, Canada and Prussia will loan their strengths. Not to mention, also through friendship, are Latvia, Sealand, and Nikki themselves."

Russia whirled around, looking for the one who dared talk to him that way. My breath caught at those words. This person was awesome, and not just for sticking up for me! My eyes and Russia's landed on the person at the same time, who was leaning nonchalantly in the door frame. I smiled, for this person was


	12. Sub-arc 1, part 3

None other than Emil Steilsson. "Oh, and by the way," He continued, looking unconcerned, "Mr. Hassan needs you to visit his room immediately. He said that I was to watch over your class while you were gone."

The stalker-Esq part of my brain stored that sentence away. So, Iceland was in Mr. Hassan, aka Egypt's homeroom. Interesting. Russia stood still for a moment, obviously confused. The person side of him obviously wanted to crush me and Lich. The country side of him, however, knew that if he did, World War Three would most likely start, with himself on the losing side. And finally, the teacher part just wanted to follow Iceland's instructions and get on with his life. I held my breath. Beside me, Lichtenstein did the same. What would be our fate? After a few long, agonizing moments (13 moments, to be exact.) Russia sighed. He blinked, stormy look fading. "I'm on my way." he said, tone somewhat subdued. He turned to myself and Lichtenstein, aura flaring slightly. "This isn't over. I would like to see you both before lunch." He stared, just past proper staring time, then turned away. "Behave, class. Iceland, take attendance. After that, I do not care what they do." He stated, and walked out the door.

Nobody moved. Many were glancing around, bewildered and in awe. Many of them didn't know Iceland, and probably thought of him as a god or something. Iceland sauntered over to to Russia's desk and picked up the attendance book. "Alright, after this you can all talk or whatever you little ones do. Okay?" He asked, amethyst eyes scanning the room. Those who could nodded.

"Orion Azam."

Orion, a sleepy looking boy vaguely related to Greece nodded. "Yea." Ice made a note.

"Ziayre Brunette"

Ziayre, a tall girl with sharp blue eyes and an attitude crossed her arms. It's said her father represented Democratic Republic of Congo before he was thrown in jail for child abuse and her mother took over the role. "Yea."

Ice marked her down.

"Ravis Galante"

Latvia jumped slightly, attempting to pull his hand away from Annabell and failing. "Here."

Ice nodded. "Annabell Ruuscas"

Annabell smiled in a disgustingly sweet way, tilting her head to the side. "Riiiiiight heeeeere." She purred/sang. Ice nodded. "Please, release Latvia's hand. He looks miserable." He said, staring at her coolly. She pouted, but complied.

"Peter Kirkland"

Sealand scowled. "Here." He said, usual vigor gone. Ice didn't comment, but raised an eyebrow.

"Nikki Williams Jones-Kirkland" I listened carefully to the way my name was said, and felt vaguely disappointed at the monotony. "Yea." I replied, matching my voice to his.

"Lili Zwingli" Lichtenstein nodded. "Here."

Iceland snapped the book shut. "That's it. Feel free to talk." He sat at one of the many vacant desks, pulling out a book. All of our classes were this size or a little bigger, due to it being an EXTREMLY exclusive school. You had to be a freaking nation or the offspring of a politician to go here, after all!

Grabbing Lichtenstein's hand, I leaped out of my seat, almost pulling her to the ground in the process. "Hey, Latvia!" I called, making my way over. Just because SHE was there didn't mean I was going to ignore my friend.

SHE narrowed her eyes, and none-to-secretly kicked all the unused chairs she could reach over. Lich slowed. I did not. She kicked some chairs, so what? My eyes landed on Sealand, whom hadn't moved since role call. I waved. "Earth to Sealand!" I called. Annabell pounded her feet, eyes sending murder. I glanced her way, mentally grinning. "You're antsy today." I commented. "You alright?"

Her face twisted, like she had bit a lemon or something. "Stay away from us, you fake bitch!" Annabell snarled, throwing herself over Latvia. He shuddered, eyes pleading to GET HER OFF!

I grinned, despite myself. "Are you by chance related to Romano?" I asked, remembering that day in the woods. He, too, had called me some form of a bitch. Annabell suddenly stood, palms flat on the desk and a glare in her eyes. "I'm getting real sick of you real fast." She growled, cat-like. I glared at her, saying "The feeling's mutual."

"Nikkiiiiiiiii." said Lich warningly. I stepped back slightly, taking a breath. Lichtenstein was right, I had to remain calm. If I got into a fight, England would skin me alive. So would America. And Canada. That's the problem with a school like this, You have to watch what you say VERY carefully, lest you accidentally start a war or mess up country relations.

Judging by what Annabell said next, this rule never reached her ears.

"That's right, run away you thieving snot-nosed disgusting excuse for a human! Run away like the coward you are!"

Remain calm, remain. Freaking. Calm... "What? Aren't you going to say anything? Too afraid, or is it because you have no comeback?"

I can think of a couple right now, none appropriate...

"Ha! I knew it! Hey Latviaaaaaaaa," She said, turning to him. "Get a load of this girl! Can you believe she was ever rude enough to consider herself your friend?" I stared at him. "Yes Latvia. Can you believe my rudeness?" I asked coolly. His eyes bugged, pleading for me not to put him on the spot. I held his frantic gaze, hoping my eyes said 'Do it. Contradict her. Do it.' After a few moments, he dropped my gaze, instead looking nervously at the floor. "She is my friend. You are not." He murmured, shrinking.

Apparently thinking he had said something else, Annabell shot me a triumphant look. "What was that, sweetie? Can you say it louder?" She asked in her signature voice of sick sweetness.

Latvia took a breath, looking her straight in the eyes. "She is my friend. You are not." He repeated, emotionless. She jerked back, obviously stunned. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I mean I do NOT like you. Get off of me!" He exclaimed, voice now peppered with annoyance. Latvia reached over, and shoved Annabell off him. I grinned. "Atta boy!" I said, clapping him on the back. He flushed bright red and sunk in his seat.

Annabell gasped. "You phony bitch! Why were you even allowed in this school? You aren't even a country, and you don't have a mother! At least I have a proper family!" She snapped, eyes throwing daggers at me. I glared. "Excuse me? I 'don't have a real family'? Whats wrong with my family?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You have three adoptive dads. That's weird and wrong." I spread my hands. "Aaannddd...?" I asked, annoyed. Homophobic people get to me. Personally, I couldn't care less if somebody is gay or not. What does it matter? You find love where you can.

The sound of the classroom door being viciously rammed open interrupted our argument. I jumped in surprise, whipping my head around. In rushed Prussia, Canada, America, England, Sweden, Finland, Switzerland, Poland, and Lithuania. The first four rushed toward me, urgency written all over their faces. Sweden and Finland, were racing to Sealand. Iceland leapt up, violet eyes wide with surprise as Switzerland shoved rudely past him, headed for Lichtenstein. Even Poland, one of the pokiest people I know, was hurrying after Lithuania, who was pushing shyly, yet, determinedly, through the sea of desks, on course for Latvia. Every one of them were armed to the teeth, even Poland and Finland.

America reached me first, having leaped over the desk instead of weaving through them. His hand latched onto my upper arm, yanking a stunned me out of my seat and my arm almost out of its socket. England beckoned to the other adults hurriedly, glancing toward the window. Canada opened the window, sending in a cold wind. Prussia hauled Iceland up and to the now-open window, shoving him through. America drag/carried me up to the front, steely grip on my arm never wavering. Prussia and Canada came to stand besides him. Sweden leaped onto the desktops, Sealand slung over his shoulders in a fireman hold. England, Finland, and Poland were rounding up the other students, herding them to the open window. Lithuania had a grip on Latvia's arm, much alike America's on mine, and had joined us up front. Switzerland also had a death grip on Lichtenstein, pulling her up to join us.

England, Finland, and Poland finished pushing the others through the window, and joined us at the front. "What's going on?" I demanded.

Nobody bothered to answer, instead turning to listen to England. "America or Prussia, carry Nikki. Whoever isn't carrying her can help Switzerland IF he needs help. But Switzerland, if you have to shoot give Lichtenstein to whoever, for both her protection and your own, since you are a sure-shot. Whoever isn't carrying is a shooter. Sweden, can you manage Sealand? Good. Canada, myself, and Finland are shooters. Don't kill anybody, just harm. Lithuania, Poland, you are both strong nations. But trade off carrying Latvia, I don't want one of you to give out. Are we clear?"

Everybody nodded.

"Good. Then get into position. Shooters on the outside, ringing the carriers. As soon as we leave this room, sprint for the cars. Be swift, but nobody left behind." England ordered. "What is going ON?" I demanded again, scared. I'm not afraid to say it, I was scared. Wouldn't you be?

Prussia turned to America. "I'm stronger than you and you're a better shot. Let me carry." He said, red eyes drilling America's oceanic ones. The blonde nodded, releasing me. Prussia swung me onto his shoulders, like Sweden with Sealand.

The four 'carriers', I guess, arranged themselves into a compact square, Switzerland with Lichtenstein in the top right, Sweden with Sealand in the top left, myself and Prussia in the bottom right, and finally Lithuania carrying Latvia, Poland standing ready beside him. The 'shooters' took their positions, one on each side of the square. America stood on my side, England at the head, Finland on the left, and Canada bringing up the rear. England nodded somberly. "Alright, move out!" Almost as if they had practiced this, the group moved forward as one.

And out into the hall. . . .

* * *

**I understand, placement was most likely confusing. Here's what it looks like-**

... **England**

**America S/L S/S Finland**

... **N/P L/L/P **

...**Canada**

* * *

Hellooooo aaaallllllllllllll! I'm not dead! I have NO excuse for not updating this. I apologize! T_T Anyways, here's the closure to this chapter. ANY and all reviews are appreciated, even CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.


	13. Sub-arc 1, part 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

* * *

There was nobody around in that deserted hallway, not even the usual straggler rushing to get to class. The only sound were our groups footsteps as they silently, carefully, tiptoed through the corridor. I could feel Prussia's tense muscles and see the grim concentration etched deep into the others faces as they scanned the surrounding area. My own eyes never stayed in one spot; instead choosing to dart about anxiously. The air itself felt syrupy, as if it was weighed down by a terrible knowledge of what was to come.

The stage was set for a fight.

I met each of my friends' eyes and saw my own anxiety and confusion mirrored back at me. Like me, they were all slung over their respective guardians' shoulders. Prussia's dug uncomfortably into my right side and ribs, but that was the least of my worries.

At the group arrowhead, England held up one hand, his left. Each and every one of took one more step, ending in perfect synchronization on the left foot, including Poland. I would have been impressed, if not for the fact that the adults were looking at one another with sadness and apprehension. Why, I wondered. Why was this happening? What was going on?

I caught a glimpse of America, eyebrows shooting upwards. His glasses had been pushed up, his sandy-blonde hair was no longer waving in a nonexistent breeze, and his normal bomber jacket/tan pants had been shed in favor of a faded gray tank-top and black semi-baggy pants. Most shocking of all, his brown eyes had lost their playful, amused glimmer and instead housed a more withdrawn, unforgiving look. I didn't like it at all. If even America had turned like this, then something terrible must be happening, surely in connection with the missing.

So busy was I with analyzing the atmosphere (Which I was thankfully able to do!) that I missed the next signal from England. All of the sudden we were charging, sprinting as if for our lives toward the main exit. And that's when I realized something was wrong. We weren't making any sound. When we were walking, I had chalked it up to care. But now, with a group of 9 adult men charging recklessly through an abandoned hallway, there should have been SOME noise.

But there was none.

Another image burst into my head: America's intense brown eyes, filled with a withdrawn, unforgiving expression.

America's brown eyes...

Brown eyes...?

Brown eyes?!

America had blue eyes!

Another unbidden image, this one of Lithuania back at the classroom. He had grabbed Latvia by the upper arm and dragged him over. Lithuania would never do that, especially since that was how Russia would grab him!

I whipped my head backwards, looking at Canada, hoping to see normalcy. My hopes, however, were quickly dashed at his eyes, which instead of being the soothing lilac I had come to anticipate were a harsh shade of jade. His curl, too, was no longer there.

I turned my head to Lichtenstein, praying she would be looking. But no, she was staring straight forward. I racked my brain for anything that would get her attention but not these strangers. Noise was out, they would surely hear and become suspicious. I couldn't reach over to poke her, nor co-

Something suddenly smacked into my head.

I jumped, then turned to it, heart hammering. They knew I knew. Oh god, I was done for! Were they gonna kill me? Torture me? Sell me into child slavery? All the stories I had ever read about kidnap victims poured into my head, filling it with grotesque images you only had nightmares about. To my infinite relief, it was only Latvia, who had kicked my head. His eyes were slightly wider than usual, and more than a trace of fear was withing his blue orbs.

_Look at Finland's eyes! _He mouthed frantically. I blinked multiple times and nodded ever so slightly, hopefully communicating that I understood. _America and Canada's too. Whats up?_ I lipped back. The corners of his mouth turned down, hardly noticeable. I darted my eyes toward Lich, raising my eyebrows. He blinked at me, once, twice, five times. Ever so nonchalantly, like he didn't know what was happening, Latvia nudged Lichtenstein's back with his foot. She turned, and he repeated what he had told me: _Look at Finland, America, and Canada's eyes!_

This she did, as well as possible while bouncing around on somebody's shoulders and not attracting attention. Her eyes filled with fear, realizing that she was not with the countries. Without being told, she kicked Sealand as non-noticeably as possible, relaying the message when he turned in annoyance toward her.

The four of us stared at one another in panic and dismay, nobody knowing what to do and hoping the other did. I racked my brains. We had to act fast! The main exit was less than 30 seconds away, and beyond that who knows how long it would take to get to the cars they had been talking about? They also had guns, and while they may not have wanted to kill us they most certainly could cripple somebody with a well-placed bullet to the leg. But we had to try! We couldn't just play into their hands. A plan began forming in my brain. It was dangerous, desperate, and destined to fail, but it was better than rolling over and allowing ourselves to be kidnapped.

I blinked super-fast, signaling that I had something to say. They looked at me, eyes filled with a heart-shattering hope. I was about to lead them into possible death, and here they were looking at me with hope. What a sack I felt! _Here's an Idea. It probably won't work, but it's what I've got. _I began, heart revving in my chest. I just hoped that whoever was carrying me thought it was just normal nerves, not I'm-about-to-do-something-really-daring-and-stupid nerves. _As soon as we get outside, roll really sudden and violently backwards. Following? _I lipped, catching sight of the main door. They all blinked, so I continued. _After that, run back into the school and split up. We'll meet in the old science lab, ok? Codeword: Stupid. _

I watched their reactions, feeling like I was about to throw up. I was so nervous, it wasn't even funny. Lich nodded. Latvia paled, but nodded. Sealand just stared, dumbfounded. I swallowed, and said one last line, right before clean December air washed over us-

_E__verybody for themselves._

With that, I rocked myself as hard and suddenly as I could backwards. The person shouted something indeterminable, grabbing my leg out of reflex. My shoulders took the brunt of the fall, but my head still managed to make contact with the cold, frozen cement. But there was no time to be stunned! I jerked my leg back and half crawled, half stumbled to the door. Out of my eye corner, I saw Latvia on his feet and punching a violet-eyed Poland. Sealand was weaving past them, sliding on the ice. I didn't see Lich, but she was right behind me, hopefully. A hand grabbed my arm, and a voice so much alike Canada's began to tell me something.

I didn't even think. I wasn't thinking, not at all. There was no time to think, just time to act.

Act I did.

I punched that false Canada right in the face, effectively breaking his grip. I fled through the doors and back into the school, breathing hard. I had never felt so alive, so keyed up! Every sense was on fire, focused on one thing only: The old science lab. Ahead of me, I watched Latvia turn left. That left me with two options- go the longer, safer way or the shorter, riskier way through the main hallways.

Glancing at the clock, it read 7:58 am

Perfect.

I took off down the main way, ignoring a teacher (Mr. Hassan, I think) who yelled for me to slow down. I couldn't! The school changed classes in less than 2 minutes. If I could make it past the main classrooms, the Imposters would not be able to get me easily because the way would be clogged with other students. But if I couldn't, well, there arose the same problem: I would be forced to a slow walk instead of this maniac death-sprint.

My sides are heaving, my throat sore. But it doesn't matter. Must run. I must make it.

7:59 am

I will not make it. I must go faster. But I can't. I hear them, some distance away.

Turns out, I can run faster after all.

I'm now approaching the classrooms. I'm almost through when the bell rings. The halls are instantly flooded with people. I can't run like this! So I do the rudest thing ever- shove people out of my way. There are a few "Hey!"s and a couple oaths, but I make it. Barely.

**~Three agonizing minutes of sprinting later~**

Panting, I try the door to the lab and find it locked. Craaappp. What was the codeword? Oh, yea. "Stupid" I gasp out, and the door opens with a slight squeal. I flop onto the floor, not caring that it's laminate. It just felt SO good to not be running.

Finally, I lifted my head and took in the surroundings. The room was dim, the shades drawn. There wasn't much to see, just some wall cabinets and a few broken desks. In the middle of the floor sat Sealand and Latvia. I felt a rush of relief initially, but then realization slammed quite rudely into my stomach:

Lichtenstein was missing. Slowly, I looked at the clock. The harsh crimson numbers stared back at me, emotionless in the way only digital clocks are. 8:15 am I whipped my gaze to the boys, who were taking turns glancing worriedly at the door, trying not to let the other see. "Wheres Lich?" I asked, voice breaking in the middle. They stared, just like the clock. I swallowed, and tried. Again.

"Where is Lichtenstein?"

* * *

*GROANNNN* It's 2am... WHY AM I STILL UP? Anyways, I'm sorry for not updating. I have no excuse whatsoever :p


	14. Sub-arc 1, part 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED!**

* * *

They stared at me with painfully hollow eyes, saying nothing. The bitter taste of corroded pennies rose and filled my mouth at their somber expressions. "Where is she?" I asked again, voice shaky. Sealand closed his eyes, looking more depressed than the day England had first told him that he wasn't a country.

"She didn't have any chance." stated Latvia, uncharacteristically monotone. "Alfred, Vash, Arthur- They just teamed up on her. It was three on one, in no way a fair fight. Last I had seen, Alfred and Arthur had guns to her face while Vash pinned her."

I was confused. "Who?"

Sealand opened his chromatic orbs, staring straight ahead. "Alfred, Arthur, and Vash." I spread my hands, confounded. "Who are they?" I asked, feeling out of the loop. Latvia stared at the door behind me, as if just speaking about them would somehow mystically teleport them here. Whoever 'they' were.

"Didn't the Jerk tell you?" I shook my head. Sealand shook his head, muttering something about a 'British jerk of Jerks"

"Ok," he began, staring awkwardly at the opposing wall. "So, you know how each country's done bad things in their life? Well, there is a person that goes to. Like when Germany was forced to do bad things under Hitler, all those horrible things bound together to make like a super-bad Germany, named Ludwig. Or when Russia had kept Prussia behind the Berlin wall, to keep himself pure all those awful things Russia had done left him and went to the evil Russia, named Ivan Braginski." I shuddered at the thought of an even-eviler Russia.

"I sorta get it. So, if a country does something terrible, like the Holocaust, all that bad stuff doesn't stay in the person, but instead goes into like an outlet, only those outlets got personified into these anti-whatever super-humans?"

Latvia nodded. "They have been around for however long you have. It's like an evil twin."

I frowned as a thought struck me. "Do you each have one?" They shared a somewhat sheepish look, and slowly nodded. My mouth once again went south as an even more convoluted thought hit me. "Do... I have one?"

Another look was exchanged between the two. "I... Don't know." Said Latvia at last. "Wait, something doesn't fit. In homeroom every day, they call you by human-sounding names. The ones you said, like Alfred, Ivan Braginski, Arthur, and Vash sound human too. What's that all about?"

Sealand bounced his leg, as if he was nervous. I didn't blame him; I felt like I had swallowed a rabid weasel and it was trying to claw its way out. "It's an old custom in the countries. If you mean business or want to really want to get a point across, like when Lich had slapped me, you use the persons negative name."

"One last question." I said. I didn't wait for an answer, just spoke. "How can you tell an anti from a real country?"

They answered in perfect sync. "Eye color."

We sat in silence for a few moments, me digesting the latest news and those two thinking about whatever. Latvia eventually broke the silence, saying what was on all our minds. "So, what are we going to do?"

I answered immediately. "Go rescue Lichtenstein, of course." He nodded. "But how?"

Silence reigned once again.

I glanced at the clock, although I don't exactly know why. It was 8:20. I smiled. This was the date of a special day in one of my 'family' branches. I allowed my mind to drift, thinking of those two. Many would object to them, but as I had stated before I don't care if somebody is gay or lesbian or bisexual, as long as they're happy. And truly, the two were happy. Whenever they were with each other, violet and crimson eyes would sparkle joyously. I sighed despite myself. If the real Canada and Prussia were here, they would know what to do. So would America. And I bet that Sealand, Latvia, and Lichtenstein's guardians would know, too.

Wait a minute...

_**AN HOUR LATER~**_

"...and that what happened." I finished, shifting my weight from foot to foot, eliciting a slight groan from the desk below me. My gaze flickered nervously around the ring of nine adults. Prussia and Canada sat side-by-side on the floor, one shocked and the other concerned. America paced, expression morphing from anger to stunned amazement and back. England's eyes were closed, mouth twisted slightly. Switzerland looked absolutely FURIOUS, ready to explode. Sweden stared at me in an unsettling way, one hand on Finland's shoulder. Said Nordic's eyes were wide, aimed at the floor but not really seeing it. Poland was clutching Lithuania's shoulders, gazing at me with a mixture of horror and his usual bemused expression. The brunette-haired Baltic had his eyes closed, fingertips fluttering slightly by his thigh.

"You got Lichtenstein... KIDNAPPED? By THEM?" Switzerland bellowed suddenly, whirling toward me. I flinched, despite myself. "No! They stormed into the class, and they looked and acted just like you!"

His eyes blazed like emerald fire. He spun around, stomping toward the wall. I watched, bewildered. This wasn't like Switzerland at ALL.

He faced the wall, breathing heavily. Then, with a grunt, he slammed a fist right into the concrete. He did it again and again, hands flashing, his knuckles cracking sickeningly each time. Blood appeared, smearing the walls with a bright red. The concrete began to flake away, straining to stand up to the Swiss's onslaught.

We all watched, shocked. With one final blow, the wall gave way in a shower of rock, dust, and noise. For a long time, nobody moved. I was appalled, hardly believing the scene.

Finally, slowly, he turned, eyes still ablaze.

"When do we get her back?"

* * *

Derp _

All I have to say :p


	15. Sub-arc 1, part 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED!**

* * *

"Right now! Does anybody have a plan BESIDES America?" I said, cutting him off just before he shot out of his seat with a signature shout about having a plan and being a hero. I had learned from experience that whenever America claimed to have a plan, it involved some sort of convoluted logic, 'heroism', and everybody else being his backup.

"I do." said England, standing up. "Is there anything I can use to draw it out?" There was no chalkboard or wipe board in the room, so we hunted around for something. I went up to the teachers podium, thinking I could find a pen or something. I crouched behind it, stifling a sneeze. Literally EVERYTHING in it was coated in dust, the powder thinner toward the back. It must not have been disturbed for a long time, because the paper was brittle and amber-yellow. The ink on it was faded, which was strange since it wasn't in the path of sunlight.

I hunted around, holding my breath so I wouldn't breath in the particles. Great choking plumes of it arose, nearly coating my glasses. I turned away, coughing. Similar sounds told me the others were having the same issue. I thought for a minute, then pulled the front of my sweatshirt over my mouth. I glanced around, slightly embarrassed to find that I was the last one to have come up with a solution. Even Sealand and Latvia held something over their mouths, (It looked like Sealand's hat) and were rooting through an old filing cabinet together.

I turned my attention back to the podium, scanning it. Three of the four shelves were swamped with papers, but had spaces behind them that might harbour some sort of utensil. The fourth and bottom shelf was empty, save for a few paperclips. I sighed through my nose, sending up small towers of dust. Yep, papers would have to be moved.

Despite the cloth over my nose and mouth, I held my breath. Carefully, I lifted the stack off the second shelf, where the dust was thinnest. Great showers of the stuff came off with the papers, virtually coating me in it. I dropped the documents and stood, lungs burning. I took a few steps away, then removed the coverings. I couldn't see all that well, so thick the powder was upon my glasses. Dust is going to be my end, I thought wryly. Not a battle, not old age, not even health issues. Dust from an extremely old science podium. What a way to go!

"Hahaha! The Hero has struck once again!" Someone who could only be America proclaimed. Hurriedly, I took off my glasses and blew, new dust motes flying from the glass.

Sure enough, there stood America holding a pack of coloured chalk above his head.

"And just what will we draw on? Honestly America, we need useful things right now! Think for once!" Said England irritatedly, crossing his arms. America deflated, lowering the chalk.

"We could just move the desks and draw on the floor." A new voice said, soft and musical. Everybody -save for America, Prussia, myself, and England- leaped a good 3 feet in the air. "Who's there?" Cried Latvia, cowering. Sealand looked around the room, obviously scared but trying not to show it. Finland had leaped into Sweden's arms, pale.

Switzerland, I noted, had not moved from the hole in the wall.

"Come on people! We go through this unawesome thing every time! Its not a ghost, it's Birdie!" Said Prussia in annoyance, pulling Canada into his side. Said nation looked away, almost fast enough to hide his blush. I smiled inwardly. I thought it was cute/funny when Prussia used his nickname for Canada in public. It wasn't so funny when he would yell it and burst into Canada's house in the middle of the night proclaiming that Germany had kicked him out and needed a place to stay, but still cute.

"Ohhh..." came a general murmur, countries looking embarrassed, particularly Latvia. Hurriedly, we all set to work, either pushing desks or wiping the floor. I opted to move desks, having had my fair share of dust.

When the floor was semi-clean and a space cleared, we sat in a circle staring at England. America handed him the chalk, and he kneeled in the middle of the circle, muttering to himself as he began to sketch.

Finally, he sat back on his heels and wiped his forehead, leaving behind a powdery grey smear. "This is the school," He began, pointing to a pink rectangle with 'Sc' written in it. From there, orange, purple, red, and green lines zigzagged to the same place: a rhombuscular shape with "enmy" written in it in different colours. "We are going to split up into strategic battle units." He continued, touching and slightly smearing each line.

"Here is where they have most likely taken her." He said, pointing to the rhombus. "We are going to arrive in waves: Number one is going to be red, and arrive straight up front. Their job is to mow down any opposition, and make way for team two, which is green. They will arrive roughly 5 minutes after red. Their job is to slip past the defence and start searching. Do we all understand so far?" He asked, looking up. I nodded, as did others.

"Good. Now, team three is going to be orange and arrive 5 minutes after green. Their job is the exact same as red, only this team will attack from the back. And finally, the purple team will arrive with the orange, and will meet up with the greens inside the building."

I spoke." What does this place look like?"

Switzerland replied, voice stone cold. "It's a fortress. There are towering fences surrounding the entire perimeter. Nobody knows what the inside looks like. Many, many slaves that stand guard along the fence. There are hundreds of them, all armed to the teeth. If any normal person entered, they would die in an instant. But because we are nations personified, we have a greater tolerance toward battle. Even so, this mission is suicide. If it were anybody but Lichtenstein"-His voice cracked, and he paused to collect himself.- "If it were anybody but her, I would say forget it and go home. But I cannot, will not, go home knowing she's in danger."

As he spoke, a single tear slid down his face, made glaringly obvious by the dust caked on his face.

Awkward silence followed.

Finally, England took charge. "Alright," He said, writing Red, Green, Purple, and Orange on the floor in their respective colours, "Who's going to be on what? I will be heading the Red team, and I believe Switzerland should head the Orange. Objections?" He asked. America immediately did so, calling out "Why can't I lead a team? I'm the Hero, after all!"

England rubbed his forehead. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen up: I thought of this plan, and can make snap decisions that effect the ENTIRE team. You have an inability to plan, and on the battlefield, lets face it: You have a tendency to think of only how to be a hero. Switzerland can plan and think for the team, whereas again you cannot."

"But I'-"

"MOVING ON!" I yelled. Sometimes, America could be so pigheaded.

England smiled and chalked down his and Switz's names in their respective colours. "Who wants to head green or purple?"

Nobody volunteered. Myself? I was TERRIFIED, not going to lie. I was SCARED! AFRAID! FRIGHTENED! Who in their right mind wouldn't be?

"Anybody?" Tried England.

Still nobody. He sighed. "Fine. Who wants to be on the green or purple, then? Not lead, just be on it?" I bit a nail, glancing at my shoe. To be totally honest, I didn't want to do this. Call me crazy, but being blown to bits in a suicide mission wasn't exactly high on my 'to-do' list. But I had to. I owed Lichtenstein. She had been the first to interact to me when I started at New Heights. I remember sitting alone at that big lunch table, feeling alone because nobody would talk to me. That is, until she plopped down next to me and struck up a conversation as if we were old friends and hadn't just met in homeroom that day. Soon, she was joined by Latvia and Sealand. By the end of the day, I had made three new friends. Ever since that day, the four of us had been inseparable, earning us many nicknames, the most popular (And cheesiest) being 'The Fantastic Four'.

Except now, we were only three.

I didn't even notice my hand going up, until I was called on. "Green or Purple?" Asked Sir Eyebrows, which was my personal nickname for England. "Green. And" -I took a breath- "I would like to lead." America beamed, expression prideful. Canada and Prussia also smiled, eyes saying _'That's my daughter'._

Which was kinda strange, but whatever.

England's eyes (Which were forest-green, by the way) flew open in astonishment. "Absolutely NOT! You could be killed! You could be captured! You could-"

"Or," I said quietly, "All could go well."

England narrowed his eyes. "Don't talk back to me. You will not be leading, and that's final!" He declared. I crossed my arms. "That's not fair! I vol-"

"Don't you talk to me about fair!" He snapped.

"You asked for leaders, and after thinking for a second I said I would! What's so bad about that?" I asked indignantly.

"You should not be leading!" He said, smacking one fist into his open palm.

"Why? Because I'm a girl? Because I'm a teenager?" I challenged.

"Partly!" He said, exasperated.

"Wh-? That's! Not! Fair! You already have strict control over my life. I HAVE to dress a certain way. I HAVE to keep my room spotless. I HAVE to act a certain way. I HAVE to keep my grades up. I HAVE to, I have to, I have to. Why won't you let me do this ONE thing for my best friend?" I yelled.

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANOTHER ONE OF MY CHILDREN LEAVE ME!" England finally roared.

Silence.

I was shocked. Another? Was he talking about how America had fought away, and he didn't want me to do the same thing? Finally, he moved. He picked up the green chalk, and put down shakily my name next to leadership. I didn't really pay attention to the rest, too busy I was with my thoughts. It was only when Prussia nudged me in the ribs that I came back to earth. Canada and America smiled at me, and helped me up. I snuck a look at the list, which looked like this-

* * *

**RED**  
England  
America  
Latvia

* * *

**GREEN  
**Finland  
Sealand  
Poland

* * *

**ORANGE  
**Switzerland  
Sweden  
Prussia

* * *

**PURPLE**  
Nikki  
Canada  
Lithuania

* * *

My eyes widened at the Red column. Latvia was fighting, and in the first wave? I looked around for him, and saw him sandwiched between Lithuania and Poland. He looked pale and terrified, yet there was a determined glint in his eyes.

"Uph!" I said, for suddenly I found myself swept into the middle of a four-way group hug. "Can't!... Breath!" I panted out. There was no mercy. After about thirty more seconds of getting my ribs crushed, the arms finally loosened. Four pairs of eyes stared at me, coming in green, violet, blue, and red. Not one of them were dry. I'm sure my own orbs were swimming, too. Finally, America spoke in a masking-fear voice- "Take care, alright?" My other guardians nodded in agreement, too choked up to speak. I nodded, a lump growing in my throat. There was no going back. "You too." I choked out, tears threatening to fall. England turned away, staring out at the others.

"It's time. Troops, move out."

* * *

Aaannndddd scene! Holy crap, this chapter got out fast. I'm pleasantly shocked. Anyways, at the risk of sounding desperate I ask you to review. You guys have NO idea how psyched I get when I see I have a new review. I literally Yell to my mother "MOM! I HAVE ANOTHER REVIEW!" And run up the stairs, then back down out of excitement. I would like thank miss Mybrosdrivemecrazy, aka Skye. She, children, Is a HHHUUGGGEEE reason this story is still going. EVERY single chapter she reviews, and I LOVE that! Thank you, Skye!  
Anyways, I have to go. My Ramen Noodles are done, and are screaming my name. Until next time, Maihai~!


	16. Sub-arc 1, part 7

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED.**

* * *

We walked outside in silence, nobody either daring or wanting to speak. My heart was already jackhammering nervously, and my throat felt like it had shrunk. I could hardly breathe. Why had I volunteered to lead? WHY? God, I was such an idiot. But there was no going back now.

England led us down to the parking lot, the stopped to address us. "Reds in my car. Greens, in with Finland. Oranges with Sweden, and Purples with Lithuania. Reds will leave now. Greens, count off 5 minutes, then follow us. Orange and Purple, do the same. Remember, you last two teams will attack at the back. And al-" America cut him off. "Dude, we totally get it! Let's just go and kick some ass!" England sighed, eyebrows furrowing into a super-unibrow. "You bloody prat. I hope you..."

"I hope you..."

"..."

He seemed unable to finish the insult. He closed his eyes, hiding their emerald depths from the world. "Please, just don't... Don't get hurt." He murmured, barely audible. Without another word, he spun around and marched to his car, calling for the Reds to follow. America did, bounding ahead of England yelling about being a hero, per usual. Latvia followed slower, eyes welling up. Suddenly, it struck me: They were the ones in most danger. They were the most likely to get killed.

I broke away from Prussia and Canada and raced past Latvia and England, catching America just before he got into the car. "Uph!" He grunted, pitching forward slightly. I buried my face into his shoulder, not caring that the leather was COLD. "Don't die." I whispered, thinking back to my old life. I would always say that jokingly whenever people I cared about left. I knew they would always return, but this time... Well, America might not come back, and that scared me. He chuckled, and pushed me off. "I'll be fine. Heros don't get hurt." He said with a small smile. "I hope not." I replied, taking a breath. He smiled once more, and told me not to worry. I returned the smile, then took off, this time headed for England.

"Uph!" He grunted, stumbling backwards as I ran into him. "What brought this on?" He asked, regaining his balance. "Don't die." I told him, meaning it with every ounce of my being. He pursed his lips, eyes softening. "I'm not going to die. Now, go on. We have a rescue to pull off." I nodded slowly. "I mean it. Don't you DARE die!" I said warningly, then ran again, this time headed for Latvia.

"Pleasedon'ttacklem- UPH!" He said, almost falling over. I chuckled, despite what was about to happen. "You too; don't die." He gasped slightly and stiffened, paling.

_Crap._

"I don't mean that you will." I said quickly. "I said that to everybody in my old life, and, well, I don't know. So I'll just shut up. But seriously, don't get killed. Bye!"

I sprinted back to Prussia and Canada, feeling embarrassed. Way to go! I berated myself, watching Latvia get into the car. He looked almost robotic, as if every movement was a chore. But he still wore that determined look, so I wasn't too worried. Ish. A hand alighted on my shoulder, startling me. It was Canada's, and he smiled down at me. "Ready for this?" He asked, eyes betraying his concern. "No. I'm terrified, and not just for me. What if they killed Lichtenstein and all the other missing nations? What if you all get killed? What if-"

"Kesesesese! You worry too much! Relax." Interrupted Prussia. I glared for a few moments, then sighed. He didn't get it. Or maybe he did, and was just masking terror. I've heard that he was good at hiding his feelings, a skill I've never mastered.

"It's time. Greens, lets go." Announced Finland, tugging himself out of Sweden's grip. I pursed my lips. Sealand was in this group. Even if he was annoying sometimes (A lot of time), he was still a good friend. I didn't get a chance to talk to him, however. He had already sprinted into his... Father? Mother?...'s car. Finland squeezed Sweden's hand, perhaps for the final time, then left. Poland gave Lithuania one last bone-crushing hug and a quick peck on the cheek, then sauntered away, casually waving goodbye. Lithuania reached out a hand, opening his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. He lowered his hand with a pained expression, turning away. I watched the car leave, intestines knotting in my gut. My chest hurt, I was so scared. My legs were jello, barely able to support my weight.

Soon, way too soon, it was time to leave. "Purples! Oranges! Lets go!" Yelled Switzerland, walking briskly to Sweden's car and getting in the driver's seat. Sweden didn't object, merely slid into the passenger seat. Prussia followed them both, loudly complaining that he should drive because "I'm the most Awesome one!" I chuckled, despite my fear. I didn't understand Prussia's obsession with awesomeness, nor would I ever. I sat in the backseat of Lithuania's dark grey Toris*.

Just before I shut the door, I heard Switzerland bellow, obviously irritated, "Just get into the car!" I smiled to myself. That albino. I could see why Canada had fallen for him. (Not that I ever would! One, he's pretty much my fourth dad and two, he's like a million years old. No thank you!)

Lithuania started the car, obviously nervous. His forehead was creased, and the steering wheel was clenched so tight in his hands I was afraid it would break. I know how preposterous that sounds, but he was a nation. And nations have much, much more physical power and strength than normal people, which is why Switzerland had been able to punch through the wall. A thought occurred to me. "Hey, do you think we'll find the others there?" I asked, breaking the silence. Lithuania pulled out of the school parking lot, following Switzerland. The car stayed quiet. "I... Don't know. Maybe." Canada replied at last. I pulled a face, then posed another question. "Do you think this kidnapping had anything to do with those disappearances?"

More silence. This time, nobody spoke up.

Well.

The ride lasted for 15 minutes, an eternity when stuck in a quiet car heading off to certain doom. During this, I tried to mentally prep myself, but failed. So when the compound finally rolled into view, I was still a nervous wreck. But at least the place wasn't as I had imagined. I had pictured a dark-stoned, medieval castle type structure with a lava moat and dead trees lying haphazardly amidst dead grass clumps and broken gargoyles.

That could not have been further from the truth.

In reality, it was a one-story, sprawling red brick building. There were bars across the large bay windows and what looked like an electrified chain-link fence surrounding the obviously well-manicured yard (Which was covered in a healthy fabric of snow.) Other than that, it looked like a normal structure.

We rolled up the driveway, which was paved in blacktop and completely snow-free. Halfway up, Switzerland parked and got out, something obviously bugging him. He waved us over, frowning. "What's wrong?" I asked, fighting my hardest to keep my voice from shaking. "Wish I knew. It can't be good." Said Canada, opening his door. I followed suit, half running to where the Swiss nation was. "What's wrong?" I asked upon reaching him with Lithuania and Canada on my heels. By this time, Sweden and Prussia had gotten out and were standing guard, guns at the ready and focus etched deep into their faces. Switzerland swept an arm around the compound. "This. There are no slaves coming out. By now, we should have been swamped with them. It's suspicious." I glanced around, half expecting armed guards to swarm out of hidden places.

All remained still.

I turned my attention back to the adults, who were now arguing. "I say we proceed! The others did, and besides its the plan to continue!" Said Switzerland, slamming a fist into his thigh. "But like you pointed out, there are no slaves! Something's up, and I don't like it." Insisted Canada.

"So what? Maybe its the day off!" Pitched in Prussia. Canada shot him a death glare before speaking once again. "For a slave? No. It's a trap!"

Good god! Couldn't we all agree on a plan for ONCE?

"Everybody shut up and LISTEN!" I yelled. Instantly, they all fell silent and stared at me, expressions ranging from annoyance to, well, annoyance. I nodded before continuing. "It was the plan to attack from the rear. What if there are no slaves because they're all battling the Red and Green teams? They need us! We can't just abandon them! And-" I took a breath, preparing for the protests that woulds surely follow my next sentences. "Whether the Orange team comes with or not, Purple is going through with the plan. I'm in charge of this team, and what I say goes. Now, lets go."

I didn't wait for any replies, just marched back to the Toris. Shuffling sounds behind me told of obedience, that Canada and Lithuania were following. I got in, staring out the window. The other Purples followed suit, getting in without a word. Lithuania started the car, commenting on how the Oranges had decided to go through with the plan. When nobody answered him, he sighed dejectedly and drove forward.

The drive to the fortress's back was utterly uneventful. Nobody attacked us, the landscape didn't change from open space covered in snow, and nothing was said. But I think this time, it was out of nerves. After all, this was certain death. We would either make it out alive and with all the captives. Or die trying. We pulled up next to the back door, a simple wooden affair. All six of us piled out, silent as owls at midnight. Surely, they knew of our arrival. The clock was ticking. With a single all-around nod, Sweden opened the door, which slid open with a ghostly wail. I winced. Now, they absolutely certainly knew of our presence.

It was now or never.

With that, I gestured to my team and stepped through the doorway.

Into our fate.

* * *

* Get it? Toris is a car I've seen in commercials. I just thought it would be ironic 'cuz, you know, Lithuania's human name is Toris Something-or-other. So, I made his car a Toris! *shot down by Switzerland*

Guys, I've come to a conclusion: The universe hates this story. First off, I've had this chapter typed up and ready to go for like, 3 days. But "our" internet went bye-bye for some reason, and the library Wi-Fi code got lost and they recently changed it. Go figure, huh? And if that wasn't bad enough, for some reason whenever I copy-paste the chapters into the box in Doc manager, it condenses the entire thing into one super-paragraph, which is super-annoying because II have to go through this big ole paragraph and try to find where the paragraphs are suppose to be. (It's only for this story. I don't get it _) ANYWAYS, when I finally got Wi-Fi the connection was lost several times, destroying any paragraph things I had made, forcing me to restart mant, many times. But you know what? I loke writing this story. Even if there are only about 30 people (If that) reading it, The 9th Female Country is still a LOT of fun to write. So screw you universe, THE STORY SHALL GO ON!


	17. Sub-arc 1, part 8

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

* * *

The door slowly creaked shut behind us, sealing out any sunlight. I stood for a few moments, my eyes adjusting to the semi-dark. Strange, I thought. The windows we had seen were open. Light should have been pouring in. Tentatively, I reached out and brushed my hand against the wall.

Solid concrete. The windows had been a sham, nothing more than deception. I shivered, and not because of the room temperature. What more was being hidden?

"We should get moving. I don't like this place." whispered Canada. His voice, which we had to strain to hear, echoed off the walls. Unbiddenly, I envisioned some monstrosity, a mutant of horrible experiments with eerily glowing blue eyes and long, wickedly sharp claws, creeping up from behind and picking us off, _one_ by _one_. I fought back the urge to scream. I've always had an 'Overactive' imagination, and it struck at the worst times, like now.

"Yea. Lets head out. Alternate Purple-Orange, and form a line. Watch each others' backs. We need to work together if this plan is going to be successful." Various nations shuffled into place, quietly murmuring their colours to one another. I jumped as somebody -I think it was Switzerland- brushed past me and took the head. As he did, I heard a 'click', like a gun being cocked. _Please,_ I thought, _do NOT shoot unless you have to. Please..._

"Where to?" asked somebody. I thought it was Lithuania, but I was never good at identifying voices. "Forw'rd." Another person answered him. I knew, however, that this was Sweden. Who could mistake his voice? "Yea. Let's go." I said, taking a baby step forward. I expected to hit Switzerland, _but there was_ _nobody there. _A chill ran up my spine. Hadn't somebody gone ahead of me? Were we even all here?

"Hey, you guys? Let's assign numbers for role call. I want to make sure we don't lose anybody." I whispered. "One!" Called out multiple voices. I hurriedly waved a hand, forgetting they couldn't see. "One person at a time! Say your name and number."

"The Awesome Prussia is number one!" Came an all-to-familiar voice, heavy in Germanic accent. "Nikki is number two!" I said hastily. I liked number two. Call me superstitious, but two was like a lucky number for me.

"Three Canada."  
"Three Finland!"  
"Three is TAKEN! For gott's sake, can we please pay more attention and avoid this unawesomeness?"  
"K'p your v'ce d'w! F'nland, you're f'rth."  
There was a pause, a 3 second pause, before another person spoke.  
"Lithuania five."  
"I'm F'th. Sw'd'n."  
We all waited for Switzerland. It was a good 5 seconds before he said "Sixth. Switzerland."

Strange, indeed.

"Every so often, we will call off numbers. Agreed?" I asked, glancing around the hallway.(?) I didn't like this, not one bit. At any time, somebody could sneak up and...

No. I would not finish that thought.

"Let's go. Are we still in line?" I questioned. "Yes! Lets just get going already!" whisper-shouted somebody (Switzerland?). "We are!" I answered, spinning around and taking a step forward. Immediately, I ran headfirst into a solid something. I froze, expecting it to whirl around and take my head off with a candlestick. "Stopstopstop!" I hurriedly, on edge. "What is it NOW?" Asked Switzerland exasperatedly, annoyance colouring his tone. "There's something in the way." I replied tautly. "I can't see to know what it is." A braver person might have touched the thing (Whatever it was) but not me. I'm a chicken, somewhat.

"Well, get a light and see what it is!" Said the Swiss nation, obviously annoyed. "Yea, I carry a light in my back pocket all the time. Let's use it now!" I replied sarcastically. Suddenly, something struck me. The others hadn't spoken in quite a while. "Number off!" I said, bouncing my leg. One. Two.. Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten?!

"One!"  
Thank god!  
"Pay more attention, everybody! And two."  
"Three."  
There was a pause. "Number three, you're up!" said somebody.  
"Mein gott, I swear I'm going to-"  
"Temper, Gilbert!" whispered Canada furiously.  
"Four."  
"F've"  
"Six. And yes, you do carry a light in your back pocket at all times. Use your phones light!"

Duh!

"Thanks." I whispered. Somebody sighed. "We're all here, no sense in prolonging it. Lets just cut the crap! LIGHTS!"

What?

At once, blindingly bright light filled the room. I squinted, staring at the laminate flooring. My heart kick-raced at 300 miles an hour. It was a trap. I just knew it.

Despite the pain of it, I looked up.  
I was surrounded by Antis. Every nation that I had come with was gone, replaced with their evil counterpart. Red, violet, blue, green and brown eyes glared down at me, none of the colours in their right sockets. That's why there had been long pauses, I realized. The Antis had been overpowering the original and taking their place. What a fool I was!

"Let's just get her to Ziayre. I need to...chat with Lithuania." Said 'Lithuania', blood-red eyes flashing.  
Ziayre? Did they mean... No. They couldn't. It was impossible.

Could they?

"I'll get it." said England, blue eyes glimmering maliciously. He reached a hand toward me, reaching for my wrist. I backed away. "Don't you DARE touch me!" I hissed. He scowled. "I don't think you realize who I am, girl." I glared. "You're an evil twin to England. Where are they? Where is my family?"

_Push._  
_SLAP!  
_ I staggered backward, face stinging. Somebody had shoved me toward... Who had Latvia said this was? Andrew? Artie? Arthur?... Whoever it was, and he had slapped me. A-something-or-other spun around and walked forward, beckoning for the group to follow.

"Lets go, girl." Said 'Prussia', exaggerating the last word mockingly. He jabbed my back roughly, prodding me forward. I shot him a nasty look and followed A-s-o-o. He lead us through a maze of hallways, all lit at 20 feet intervals by what looked like lanterns. There were no windows, and no sign that there ever were. The entire outside was a façade, I bet. I chewed the inside of my lip nervously. How could I get out of this?

We turned down a final hallway and into a narrow, lengthy corridor that had roughly 20 wooden doors on each side. Bolted onto each door was a barred window and another dim 'lantern', casting creepy shadows across the floor. They slowly marched me past the cells, giving me barely enough time to see who was in each compartment before jostling me along. I stared into each one of them, horrified at what I saw but unable to look away.

Italy, slumped against a featureless wall. His clothes were tattered, his face bruised. He was breathing gingerly, as if his ribs had been cracked. He didn't open his eyes as we walked past, instead turning his head toward the wall.

Germany was standing in the middle of his cell, glaring intensely at the door. When we passed, his face contorted into pure anger. He spat, the saliva flying through the bars and onto the cheek of 'Prussia'. The Anti made a move, as if to hit Germany, but stopped himself and continued walking.

The next cell held a battered and dirty Austria, who was sawing at the air besides his shoulder and humming some classical-sounding tune. He's playing the violin, I realized. Sadness washed over me. How long had he been here to become this way?

A scream suddenly rent the air, pain-filled and penetrating. "Shut UP!" somebody feminine snarled. A sickening slap followed, and the scream abruptly stopped. 'Finland' chuckled cruelly. "Elizavetta's having fun." He commented. "Maybe I'll visit Finland after. I miss him." The last three words were said malice-fully, hinting at viciousness and brutality. I shivered. These people were evil. No, worse than evil. They were monstrous, they were vile, they were depraved, they were... .Well, evil.

They lead past the cell after who could only be Hungary's, stopping in front of it. "This is where I leave." Said 'Canada', smiling savagely. My chest wrenched painfully. Canada was my favourite parent. Now, who knows what was going to happen to him?

We moved on quicker, leaving behind the Canadians. We passed cell after cell, all of them holding the nations who had come on the rescue mission. At various times, a member of our party would stop at a cell and go in. Finally, it was down to 'England' and I.

He opened one of the last cells, pointing to it. "Get in and be quiet." He said. I stared at the cell, which was little more than a black hole in the wall. The lantern had not yet been lit, so I couldn't see inside it. "Go on!" 'England' said, shoving me impatiently. "No!" I said, backing away. My imagination was at work again, and I saw eyes glowing within the cell, no doubt belonging to some monster waiting to slowly, agonizingly, tear me apart with its wickedly sharp claws. "You will!" Insisted 'England', reaching out. I turned around and bolted back the way we had come, fear lending wings to my feet. The doors blended together, creating one continuous brown blur. There were calls from the captives, no doubt shouts of encouragement. I didn't listen. I was sprinting for my life, imagination conjuring up brainsick things from my nightmares chasing me.

BAM!  
I ran right into 'Hungary', who immediately caught and threw me to the floor. She raised a frying pan threateningly, its surface dyed a slick black in the dim, orangeish light. "Next time you try escaping," She hissed, her putrid breath nearly gagging me, "Don't make so much noise. You'll alert people like me." She hauled me up by my arm and shoved me forward, right into 'England'. He nodded appreciatively to... Elizavetta?.. And grabbed my wrists. "Don't you dare do that again!" He hissed, kicking my left shin. The blow stung like fire, nearly knocking my leg out from underneath me.

He dragged me back to the cell and without hesitation threw me in. I stumbled and fell, cracking my knees painfully on the floor. He slammed the door, locking it with exaggerated care. He lit the lantern, bringing merciful half-light to the inky cell. He smirked down at where I sat, blue eyes colder than ice. "Have fun." He said, then left. I listened to his footsteps fade, then got up.

I walked across my cell both ways, noting the smallness. I could take 4 steps left to right and 5 up and down. The room was barren of any furniture, like all the others, and had smooth concrete as its walls and floor. I got down on my hands and knees, checking the wall-to-floor fit. Perfect. There wasn't even a miniscule chip in the block. In fact, there was no seam, as if the entire cell had been carved out of one giant block of cement.

Next, I checked the door-to-cement fit. Again, it was perfect. I doubted even a Post-it could slide between them. I glanced where the doorknob would be, wondering if it had possibly been only partially locked. To my horror, there was only a keyhole where the knob SHOULD have been. I stood, pushing against the door for no reason. It didn't budge, nor did I expect it to. Halfheartedly, I wiggled each of the 5 bars.  
None of them moved, even a millimeter. I walked to my cell back, sliding into a sit. I stared at the wall, despair settling over me in a blackened cloud.

It was hopeless.  
We had failed.

* * *

Oh my gosh, two chapters in one week? I AM AMAZING! *not. I have no life T_T*


	18. Sub arc 1, part 9

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

* * *

I lay on my back gazing up at the ceiling, the frigid, stoney cement biting into my skin. It had been about a half-hour since 'England' had thrown me into imprisonment, and already I could feel my mind growing blurry at the edges. Had it really been only 30 minutes, or was my mind playing games? I didn't know. All the other nations were as silent as I, either sleeping or not talking. I had scoured my cell again about 20 minutes ago, and had found what I guess was a toilet. It was basically an arm-sized chute in the ground covered by a small cement slab. The chute had little pipes embedded in the sides that would ooze water down the sides of the tube when you closed the slab. It would have been pretty cool, had I not been in imprisonment. Other than that, the cell was completely featureless.

Suddenly, I heard a door open. The sound was such an unexpected break from the monotony of silence that I bolted to my feet in shock. I closed my eyes briefly against vertigo, swaying slightly. I could hear new voices, excited voices. My heart soared. It was a rescue! I just knew it! I jumped to my door, plastering my face against the bars. Who was here? I began bouncing on the balls of my feet, excited. They were coming to take us away! We were gonna be free!

And then I caught sight of 'England', entering a cell 5 down from me on the opposite side. He was carrying a black trash bag and wearing a wicked grin, speaking in a voice too quiet for me to hear. I backed away, hitting the wall. Panic flooded my chest, so powerful I could hardly breathe. Oh god, I was about to meet my Anti. What would she do? I envisioned Italy, barely breathing. Was she like that? Or was she more like... Who was Hungary's Anti? Elizabeth? Eliza? I couldn't remember.

Gradually, the sound of doors unlocking and relocking stopped. I slid down the wall again, staring fearfully at the cell's window. At anytime, I expected a face, dangerous and beautiful, to fill the space and enter my cell.  
It never did.

I slowly relaxed, the panic settling into a manageable sense of foreboding.  
And then the screams started. The first sound was obviously Italy's, a dreadful terror-filled scream of "NO! DON'T HURT ME I'M A VIRGIN!". The second sound was that of a whip cracking and coming down upon a persons skin. My eyes widened. I tasted bile. I wasn't especially fond of Italy, but it what was happening was still horrible. The third sound that I heard was a hateful, angry voice. It didn't say anything specific, instead being a long, drawn out bellow. Accompanying it was the sound of glass shattering, but whether it was from the bellower or another person I wasn't sure. After that, more and more people began making noise. Not all were screams. Some where whip cracks. Some were hissing, like a gas leak. Perhaps the worst of all were those angry, tortured roars. They echoed through the narrow hallways, rebounding off walls and other prisoners. I curled into a ball, clasping my hands over my ears. My fingernails bit into my head, but I didn't care. ANYTHING to block out this horror was acceptable. I could feel droplets of blood begin oozing down my jawline, sticky and cakey. They combined with tears I hadn't known were falling, creating a watery, metal-flavoured liquid. But I didn't dare remove my hands.

Somehow, some way, I must have fallen asleep because when I came to, the blood was mostly dry. My head ached, and my fingers were cramping. I took my nails from my scalp and slowly sat up, wincing in pain. How on earth had I fallen asleep?  
I stood, walking to the door. I pressed my face against the bars again and peered down the hall, trying to glimpse... What?

"Hey!" Somebody hissed out. I shrieked slightly and jumped away from the door, slapping my hands over my mouth. Why had I shrieked? WHY?

Tentatively, I went back to the door. Directly across from me, somebody also had their face against the bars. I couldn't see exactly who it was, and like I had said earlier I'm absolutely terrible at naming voices. "You're... You're not beaten! How?" asked the voice, surprise and slight disbelief colouring his/her tone. I squinted, trying to name the person. "Who are you?" I asked, failing to notice the figure striding down the hall. "You don't recognize me?" Said the voice, sounding sad. Definitely feminine, I decided. "No, sorry." I replied, feeling kinda guilty. "Oh. That ok." Said the voice, obviously put out. I saw the person move slowly away from the bars, as if she hoped that I would tell her to stop. I didn't, however. For all I knew, she was my Anti. I began pacing my cell, idly cracking my knuckles. Who was that girl? What did she want?

"Don't do that. You'll get arthritis." Said a new voice disapprovingly. I glared back toward the window, expecting it to be that girl.  
How wrong was I? About as wrong as that fateful day in the woods, when I had thought there was nobody behind me.

Standing at the window, staring at me with unreadable pale blue eyes, was Ziayre Brunette. Ziayre Brunette, as in my classmate. So I had heard right. But what was she doing here? "Ziayre!" I said, surprised. "What are you doing here? Get away, before they catch you! But wait, you're not a country, so I guess you're safe. But really, what are you doing here?" I said all in a rush. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. Wordlessly, she slid it into the keyhole and opened the door. I ran for the opening, ecstatic. "Thankyouthankyouthankyoutha-" I never got to finish, for she pushed me down by my shoulders and elbowed her way in, re-locking the door behind her. "What was that for? And why did you lock the door?" I asked irritatedly, getting up. She offered her hand, still not saying anything.  
I ignored it.  
Time passed.

"Do we look alike?" She finally asked, staring at me. I frowned, slightly off put by the strange question. "Not really. We have the same body, but our faces are different. Why?" I replied, wary. Where was she going with this? She sighed, as if the weight of the world was solely on her shoulders. "No reason. That was awful earlier, wasn't it? When all THEM came in?" She asked, sitting down.

"Yea." I replied, still standing. "Why do they do that to the countries? Its, well terrible!" Ziayre exclaimed. I nodded. "I know. I had to hear it, kinda. I covered my ears, and I guess my nails cut my scalp. My Anti didn't come, though, so I'm lucky."  
I sat down directly across from her. It felt weird and stupid to keep standing when she had sat and wasn't doing anything threatening. "Is that why your head is covered in blood?" She asked, tapping her own head. I grinned, sheepish. "Yea. I wish I could wash it off somehow. It's kinda itchy." She thought for a second, then said "Here. You can use my sweater and the water from the chute."

Ziayre took off her sweater, a dark grey zip-up with faded rainbow skulls on the hood.

With a start, I realized that it was mine. Or, it had been. In my old life, I had a sweater exactly like that. How weird was that?

"Thanks." I said, scooting over to the chute. "Do you know how this works?" I asked, soaking water from the sides. Ziayre nodded. "It's a weight sensor. When the lid goes down, it hits a thing and that triggers another thing which makes the water run. Real simple, actually." I pressed the cloth against my head, grateful for the soothing coolness. I hadn't even realized that my head hurt until now. "Yea, its pretty cool."

Silence.

"So..." I said, trailing off. I wanted to ask her what she was doing here again, but something told me that wouldn't fly well. "What?" She asked, staring at me unnervingly. I shrugged, staring right back. "I don't know."  
"I see."  
We both stared, unwilling to back down. I could feel a smile fighting to break loose, but I would not let it. I could see a similar struggle going on over Ziayre's features. The contest stretched over two agonizing minutes, until I finally couldn't stand it. "On three, we stop? Please?" I asked, cheek muscles cramping. She nodded.

"One..."  
"_Two..._"  
"_THREE!_"  
We both burst out laughing, doubling over. My head smacked against the floor, which only made us laugh harder. Ziayre threw her own head back dramatically, nearly tipping over. "Why is this so funny?" I gasped out, words echoing off the walls. "I don't know!" She replied, obviously giddy. My faced was aching, but I just could not stop. Maybe its because the other option was awkward silence.

"Shoot! I gotta go!" exclaimed Ziayre, standing up suddenly. She looked around frantically, muttering something. I spied the key, just a foot away. "Is this what you're looking for?" I asked, picking it up. "Yes!" She said relieved-ly, snatching it away. "I'll be back in a few hours, maybe. Hide the sweater if anybody else comes. Bye!" She said, freeing herself. In a few moments, the only sign she was ever in my cell was the sweater. I watched her run, my laughter dying away. What in the world was going on?

I lie down again, putting the sweater beneath my head. At least I have something to do now, I thought. I can puzzle out what she's doing here. I went over everything I know about Ziayre Lyn Brunette, and half an hour or so later came up with this-

1.) She lives with her mother.  
2.) Her father once represented the Democratic Republic Of Congo, but got thrown in prison because he would beat up Ziayre almost daily when she was little.  
3.) She was an only child.  
4.) She has the same body type as me. Ish.

I went over and over and over and over those four facts, trying somewhat desperately to find a connection between them and why she was here, with the Antis. I sat up, pulling the sweater into my lap. A swift search of the pockets revealed nothing. I sighed and stood, stretching. I walked as loudly as possible to the door, peering across the hall to the other cell. Nobody. I rolled my head, listening to my bones creak. This, I decided, is easily worse than in-school suspension, of which I had been in twice. At least in in-school, you could listen to other people or read. Here, there was only eerie silence. Too much silence. I had to break it, somehow. So I opened my mouth and sang the first song that came to mind-  
"_From Agincourt, _ _To Waterloo._  
_Poitiers, _ _And then Anjou. _  
_The Roses' War, the Hundred years. _  
_Through Battlefields of blood and tears!"_  
"_From Bosworth Field,"_ Came another voice, weak and creaky. I jumped in surprise. Another nation knew that song?  
"_To Point du Hoc."_sang a few others. I widened my eyes, then smiled. This could be fun.  
"_Stalingrad, and the seige of York!_  
_The bloody turf of Gallipolli,"  
_ I paused, listening. At least five voices were joined, and somewhere another nation was beating out the song rhythm on the floor.  
"_Had no effect on the killing spree!_  
_Bannockburn,_ _To Austerlitz.  
__The Fall of France and the German Blitz. _  
_The cruelest of,_ _Atrocities!  
_ _Europa's blood is borne of these!"_

By now, at very least half of the captive world was singing. It wasn't beautiful, not by a long shot. But it was unison, and that in itself was amazing. But here, in this hellhole? It was one word: Awe-inspiring. I joined the other girls in the high soprano part, something akin to pride begining to blossom in my chest.

"_Heaven help in all our battles;_  
_Heaven see, love._  
_Heaven help us!"_

"_Bolsheviks,_ an_d Feudal Lords.  
_ _Chivalry, to Civil War._  
_Fascist rule,_ _and Genocide._  
_Now we face the rising tide!_  
_Of new crusades, Religious wars._  
_Insurgents imported to our shores!_  
_The Western world,_ _Gripped in fear._  
_THE MOTHER OF ALL BATTLES, HERE!"_

Once again, I catapulted up to the soprano part. Out combined voices rose and fell majestically, filling the prison.

"_Heaven help in all our battles!_  
_Heaven see, love.  
_ _Heaven Help us!_  
_Avent hier, _ ...(The day before Yesterday,)  
_Avons etre,_ ...(Has to be,)  
_Deja Demain,_ ...(already tomorrow,)  
_Nous, sommes, eclairee!"_ ... ( We are Enlightened!)

As if on cue, somebody who could only be Austria began humming the violin part. I stopped, breathless. His voice was so perfect, so on time and on tune that I could have sworn there was a real violin stashed somewhere in the cell. I wiped my watering eyes and leaped back into the song, putting my inspired heart into it this time.

"_All Glory! All Honor!_  
_Victory is upon us! _ _Our Savior, fight evil!  
_ _Send armies to defend us!"_

"_Empires built, and Nations burned._  
_Mass graves, remain unturned. _  
_Descendants of, the dispossessed,_  
_Return with bombs strapped to their chests!_  
_There's hate for life,  
_ _And death in hate._  
_Emerging from the New Caliphate!_  
_The victors of,  
_ _This war on fear._  
_Will rule for the next THOUSAND YEARS!"_

"_All Glory! All Honor!  
_ _Victory is upon us!  
_ _Our savior, _ _Fight Evil!_  
_Send Armies to defend us!_  
_Europa._  
_Europa._  
_Find better days before us!_  
_In kindness,_  
_In spirit!  
_ _LEAD US TO A GREATER CALLING!"_

I kept singing with the girls, pride for the world threatening to rip my chest to shreds.

"**Leningrad,  
** _Europa!_  
**Berlin Wall.**  
_Europa!_  
**March on Rome,  
** _Find better_ **  
Bzyantium's Fall!**  
_Days before us!  
_ **Lightning War,  
** _In Kindness,_  
**Dresden Night!**  
_In Spirit!_  
**Drop the bomb!  
** _LEAD US TO A  
_**End this fight!**  
_GREATER CALLING!_  
_**NEVER AGAIN!"**_

As the last notes faded into oblivion, one sound rose above it all-

A door, angrily ricocheting off the wall.

* * *

Aasdfghjkl. All I have to say.

Of any of you were wondering, the song is called "Europa" by Globus. Here is a great cosplay video of the song- watch?v=BVBp0WLc2tU


	19. Sub-arc 1 part 10

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

Here you go, mein dedicated readers. No excuse other than no internet, so to make up for it I present to you an extra-long chapter.

Enjoyith.

* * *

I stopped dead in my cell, frozen. What do I do? I could stand here, or... I could stand in the corner

I cracked a dry smile at that. Really, the choice came down to where to stand. It wasn't like I could run anywhere.

Cautiously, I went up to the bars and glanced out. Coming down the hallway in single-file were the Antis. Each carried a covered tray, and stopped in front of their counterparts' cell.

I searched the people, trying to pick out my Anti. She would be tall, black-haired, slim, and have glasses.  
None of these girls fit the description. However, one of the females stopped at the cell directly across from me, and she looked suspiciously like Lichtenstein.

"Hey!" I hissed, trying to get her attention. She paid me no heed, either not hearing or ignoring me. "Hey!" I said again, a little louder this time. I saw her head shake ever-so-slightly sideways, like she didn't want to see or talk to me. I frowned. "HEY!" I called, wincing as my voice echoed faintly. Luckily, the other 'nations' were murmuring amongst themselves, somewhat disguising my echo.

The Anti whipped her head toward me, annoyance obvious within her amber eyes. "Shut up!" She growled nastily at me, then turned back around.

The eye colour and personality are off, I thought, but that was definitely "Lichtenstein."

I watched the others, curious. Each Anti was now facing their counterparts' cell, holding the tray at a stiff waist level and staring straight ahead. I could see only a few of their expressions, and they varied from intense, burning hatred to utter indifference, happiness even.

What kind of sick people were this, that they could look at their captives and see the bruises, welts, and scars that crisscrossed and littered their own twin and not feel even the _slightest_ bit revolted at their handiwork?

The hallway became silent, as if on command. I shivered, shifting my weight. This was uber-eerie. What were these... people doing?  
Not three seconds after I thought that had the Antis unlocked the cell, tossed in the tray, and relocked the door. I widened my eyes, once again shocked at their unison. It was like they were all telepathically connected.

I watched, fascinated. Now, the Antis were back in single file and marching out the door with enough precision that they could have been army-trained by Switzerland.  
To be frank, it was a little depressing. How were we suppose to stage an escape (And lets not talk about a rescue!) against THAT?

I waited until all the Antis had left, then rushed up to the door bars. Around me, the harsh sound of stone on metal grated against my ears, making me wince. I peered across the hallway at Lichtenstein, trying to catch a glimpse of her. But all that could be seen was a vague, hunched-over shadowy form.

I sighed, leaving to door to stand in the cells' middle. "I hate prison." I said aloud, expecting no reply and getting exactly that. I rolled my head side-to-side absently, thinking about my Anti and why she hadn't given me some (What I'm guessing was) food. I let my thoughts drift, ignoring my now-growling stomach. What was I going to do when my Anti finally showed her snivelling face? I fantasized about it, dreaming that I would be facing the wall when she came in. I would slowly, dramatically, turn to her with a dangerous look _to my eyes. _

_"So, you finally decided to show up." I sneered, hatred colouring my tone. She stood in the doorway, framed eerily by the lamps. Her silhouette made it hard to make out individual features, but one was clear-  
__Her icy, calculating eyes. _

_They glowed ominously, foretelling of malicious intent and a twisted, sickened imagination._ _*** She sneered right back at me, advancing into the cell. I stayed where I was, crossing my arms defiantly.  
__"I wanted you nice. And. Scared." She said, emphasizing the last three words menacingly. I smirked at her. "Is that suppose to scare me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow._

_ She narrowed her eyes, unclenching a fist. "You cocky bitch! Learn some respect!" she commanded, and slapped me hard across the face. I stumbled slightly to the side, cheek stinging from the blow, then straightened. _ _*** "Is that the very best you can do? No wonder you're so disrespected by the others. Now, lets quit the little blows and get to it." I said, taking a step forward challengingly._ _***_ _*** She grinned, malice in her wintry eyes. "With pleasure." She and I advanced toward each other, fists clenched and muscles tense. I stared right into her eyes, narrowed my own hazel orbs, and-_

"Hey!"

I jumped, startled from my hiatus. Standing at my 'window', with the glow from the lanterns gently outlining her silhouette, stood Ziayre. She unlocked the door and entered, smiling at me. I stayed where I was, knowing from last time it was useless to try charging out. Ziayre locked the door behind her and turned toward me, waving. I waved back and started bouncing on the balls of my feet, overjoyed at seeing another human being that didn't hate me!

"I have some stuff for you." She said, removing a backpack I hadn't seen. I half-skipped over and peered inside. She yanked it aside playfully, mischief dancing in her sky-blue eyes. "Here." She said, pulling out a bottle of water, a sandwich, a pad of paper, and a pencil. I gasped, grabbing the items away. "Thank you!"

I began eating the sandwich, which turned out to be ham and cheese. It was gone in a matter of seconds, thanks to my (According to England) unsateable appetite and the fact that I hadn't really eaten breakfast. She watched on in amusement, only telling me to slow down when I almost broke the water bottle's cap.

After I had guzzled down half of the cool, sweet water, I wiped my mouth and gestured to the paper and pencil. "Whats this for?"  
"Oh!" She exclaimed. "I want you to make me a list of food you like. That way, I can bring it to you." I cocked my head, confused. "Why? Not that I'm objecting, but why you?"  
She hesitated, obviously unsure of what to say. "I want to.. Make sure you're comfortable! After all, it must be terrible, stuck in this cell all day and night. If it were me, I know I'd go crazy." She pushed the paper and utensil toward me, obviously wanting to get off this subject.  
I nodded, wondering exactly _why_ she was here in the first place. But again, it didn't seem like a good idea to ask.

I picked up the pencil and pulled the notebook toward me, wrote one word, then pushed it back to Ziayre. She read it, then arched an eyebrow. "'Everything?'" she questioned, looking at me over the tops of her glasses. I smiled innocently. She shook her head, chuckling.

We lapsed into silence.

"Can I ask you a question?" Ziayre finally asked, looking slightly nervous. I shrugged noncommittally. "Sure. Ask awayith."  
She smiled, visibly relaxing. "What's it like, being a country and all?"

Hmm. Good question.

I crossed my legs and put my elbows on my knees, thinking. "Its not really all that different from being normal." I finally replied, propping my head with my hands. She tilted her head. "How isn't it?" *** I sucked one cheek in absently, deliberating. *** "Well... I still am a teen, like before. It's not like I suddenly became old and wise. Then again, I don't know much about what being a country actually means." *** "Why not?" *** "None of them tell me anything. Whenever I ask about anything, they just kinda wave a hand around and start sprouting nonsense. None of them will even tell me what land holding I have!" I said, slightly bitter.  
She was silent for a few seconds, obviously battling herself. Over what? I wondered.

Ziayre took a breath, then asked in a voice so quiet I had to strain to hear, "Would you like me to tell you? I know some stuff, like how age works and...stuff."  
I stared, my mouth opening slightly. It occurred to me she might be lying, but I swiftly banished the thought. "S-sure!" I stuttered out, hardly daring to believe I might finally, finally learn something!

"Ok. What do you want to know?" She asked, looking at me. I thought for a couple of seconds, then asked "How does age work?"

She smiled, obviously relieved. "Good, something easy. Ok, age works by how long you stay dependant and your country's general responsibility level. If your nation stay dependant under others, you stay 'young' because you're still depending on others, like right now. You are 'young' because you still have Canada, America, and England looking after you. Does that part make sense?" She asked, pausing for a breath. I nodded, so she continued.

"Now, this is where age gets tricky. This part is based on your people. If your people are irresponsible, you will remain 'young', at least until your people grow up a bit. Now, before you weren't being raised by nations, so you aged regularly. But now that you've got country parents, your age will be determined like so. Did I lose you on that?"  
I shook my head. "No, that's actually pretty simple."  
Ziayre nodded, relieved. "Good. I tend to lose people when I explain stuff. Nice following!" She clasped my shoulder roughly. I grinned. "Same here. If I try to explain something to people, a lot of times I get blank stares. Hey, could you tell me some more stuff?"

She nodded, crossing her legs like me. I thought for a few moments. "Oh! I heard America complaining once that he felt kinda sick. England said something to him that I didn't hear, But America smacked England on the arm and said something about how he wasn't 'feeling 1930's sick'. What did he mean by that?"

Ziayre scratched her knee, then replied "Well, in the 1930's America hit the Great Depression. During this, he got really, REALLY sick. Some people thought he was going to die! But he got like that because his country was in such terrible shape that it affected him. Your country's economic and physical state actually affects you."  
She paused, taking a breath.  
"If something happens on your land, like a bomb gets dropped on it, then the corresponding body part will also be affected. Like when America -not to bring up such a sore subject between nations!- dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, it broke Japan's left hand and his right foot. He still has scars on them, and those scars will only go away once all the damage from the bombs is COMPLETELY healed."

I cocked my head. "Whatcha mean by 'corresponding body part?'"  
She frowned. "Don't you know about the link between your physical land and your body?"  
I shook my head, feeling a bit stupid. "No. I told you, they tell me nothing."  
Ziayre sighed, shaking her own head despairingly. "Ok. You ready for this?"  
I nodded.

"Alright. Your body parts, believe it or not, are actually representative of certain landforms and cities within your borders. Like Canada's spine is actually the Rocky Mountains and America's neck is actually a landform called Devils' Tower. Ironically, Devils' Tower is a volcanic neck."  
I laughed at that. "Yeah. But wait," I said, a thought occurring to me. "What would happen if somebody blew up Devils' Tower? Would America die?" She shook her head. "You would think, but landforms and cities that make up important parts of you are protected by something. We aren't sure by what, though."

I nodded. "For now, that's all the questions I have. Any more and my brain will explode!" I joked. She smiled, then said "You're pretty cool. Why weren't we friends at school?" *** *** "I'm... Not sure. You're pretty awesome too, if I do say so myself."  
"Why thank you, madam!" Ziayre said, bowing exaggeratedly low. I shook my head, smiling. "You, ma'am, are crazier than a loon on loon tablets."

She shot straight up, almost toppling herself. "You... I, Me, but, um, how do-"  
I plastered an annoyed look on my face and glared at her bangs. "Shut up, fringey."

I was promptly tackled by an ecstatic Ziayre, who was yelling "YOU KNOW THE BOOKS! YOU KNOW THE BOOKS!"  
"Get offa me!" I said, struggling to push her away. She sat up again, her glasses slightly askew. "Sorry. But I've never met another person who's read the Georgia Nicholson books. How many have you read?"

"I've read up to Startled by his Furry Shorts. I want to read the others, but I couldn't find the ones after that."  
"Me either. How weird is that?"  
"Tres weird." (A/N: I know there is suppose to be an accent over the 'e', but I couldn't find it on my keyboard. *Hides from angry people*)

Silence lapsed. Again. But this time, it was a comfortable silence, like the type friends might have.

Ziayre suddenly thrust a hand into her pocket and withdrew a phone. Because it was dim and I saw only a fleeting glance of it I couldn't be sure, but I swore that her phone was exactly like mine.

"Hello?" She said, turning slightly away from me. I looked away, trying my hardest not to listen in.

"In the dungeons with It. Why?"  
Pause.  
"No! Why would I ever pamper It?"  
**Pause.  
** "Trust me! You can even come down and see the thing. It's beat up, I assure you!"  
_Pause._  
"Fine! Be down in five minutes and I'll prove it to you!"  
Pause.  
"Got it. Bye."

Ziayre snapped her phone shut and lunged to her backpack, digging frantically through it.  
"Whatcha looking for?" I asked, scooting over. She didn't answer, instead moving on to the next pocket. "Aha!"  
She withdrew a box the size of a shoebox and pure silver. She quickly flipped open the latches and practically broke the lid's hinges throwing it open.

Inside, nestled in dark red velvet, was an array of vials, bottles and jars in a rainbow of colours. She snatched a plastic jar with a white label out of the box, then turned to me. Swiftly, she unscrewed the jar and gripped my chin, taking off my glasses. I wrenched my face out of her grip and twisted away, shooting her a 'look'.

"What are you doing?!" I asked indignantly, making a grab for my glasses. She whipped them into a cell corner, saying "There's no time! You have to trust me. Please!"  
I glared at her, intending to yell right back. But the look in her eyes stopped me. It was a look of desperation, anxiety, and wild fear. She stared, silently pleading with me to cooperate with her, to have faith in her.

To trust her.

I looked down, sighing through my nose. "Fine."

Ziayre grabbed my chin once again, forcing my face toward her. She dipped her hand in the now-open jar and withdrew it, bringing a small cloud of powder with it. She rubbed the stuff onto my face, explaining "This in talcum powder. It will make you seem paler, and the fake blood seem brighter and more vivid."

Fake blood?

She finished putting the powder on and placed the jar back in its place, taking out a medium-sized tube with a screw-on/screw-off top. Ziayre unscrewed the tube, and with it came a wand, the sort that came with lip gloss. (Not that I used makeup! I consider it to mask a girl's real beauty. -**A/N: True story.-)**  
She globbed the stuff onto part of my bottom lip, paused, then wiped some away, saying "Now it looks like you have a split lip."

Next, she took a smaller bottle and dipped two fingers in. When they came out, they were coated in a black-purple powder. "Now for the bruises."  
Ziayre dabbed the stuff onto my eye and around my cheekbone, a look of deep concentration upon her face. After she was done, she ripped my pant legs at the knees and rubbed 'blood' onto the skin, whispering that she would buy me new pants after this ordeal was done.

BANG!  
We heard the slam and simultaneously leapt away from each other. I stared, panicked. "Act really hurt!" She said in a low voice, scrambling to put the silver box back into her backpack. I threw myself down on the floor in what I hoped was a tortured position while she threw the bag into the corner with my glasses and stood, plastering a malicious smirk on her face.

A silhouette glided into view, slowly and menacingly.  
Ziayre bowed low, then opened the door with the key. I quickly lowered my eyelids to look almost-unconscious, heart hammering furiously in my chest. The last time I had been this scared was when, in my old life, I had gotten cornered in a stall by the biggest, meanest horse in the stables. I had tried beating him away with a shovel, but it had broken. I managed to get away by screaming and jumping at the horse, causing him to rear up in fear. I had ducked out underneath him and never went near the horse again.  
Something told me jumping and screaming would not help here.

"Hello, Arthur." said Ziayre quietly, dipping her head in- respect? Fear?  
Arthur, whom I could now see was 'England', paid her no heed, instead snatching the key away from her and barging inside my cell. She followed, fear and worry painfully obvious through her mask of cold, calculating evil.  
Arthur stopped, the tips of his boots digging into my ribcage. I lowered my eyelids a fraction of a fraction, and allow my lip to twitch _just_ slightly. To my relief, he turned away from me, apparently finding something more interesting.

But my relief swiftly turned to icy, paralysing fear as Arthur held up Ziayre's backpack. The pocket slowly peeled down, revealing the silver box. He removed it and dropped the backpack, tilting the box to and fro, catching it in the light. He turned to Ziayre, a sickening blend of emotions on his face: Hatred, Anger, Glee, and Triumph.

He took Ziayre's chin and roughly twisted her face so she was staring him in the eye. In a low, threatening voice, Arthur shook the box and growled out  
"What is this?"


End file.
